The Dragons Bride
by sassy-sadist1
Summary: She Dreamed of him for all her life. She mourned him with every breath. She had given up on her dreams and now she is a Dragons Bride. He gave up on life, on love and on himself. He became a dragon.Now he has a bride. Will he learn to live, love and believe again? AU. Please Read and Review.
1. Chapter 1

~~~~~~ Disclaimer ~~~~ I do not own Harry Potter and make no money from this story!

_The Dragons Bride_

_Prologue_

_Ginevra was only nine years old when she almost killed the savior of the wizarding world. She was hauling herself up a sturdy young oak carefully testing each branch to make sure it would bear her weight when he came over the hilltop, his large black dog by his side as every day. She settled into a well-worn hollow in the trunk and peered through the minty green leaves, her heart skipping a beat. Yes it was he; there was no mistaking the regal bearing or shock of dark hair of Harry James Potter._

_Ginevra rested her chin in her hand and sighed content just to watch him walk by. Although he walked this path every day, she never tired of watching him. Never tired of dreaming that one day he would look up and catch a glimpse of her. It would be love at first sight, then he would flash his crooked smile and she would float gently to the ground and he would sweep her up into his arm and carry her away to his castle .After passing through the village for all to see and she would bask in the happy smiles of her parents and the envious stares of all the other girls in town._

"_Look! There is Ginny up a tree! And they say pigs can't fly!" A burst of raucous laughter jerks Ginevra from her daydream._

_As she looked down she saw a circle of children surrounding the tree her skin began to crawl with a familiar dread. Perhaps if she ignored their taunts they would simply go away._

"_I don't know why you're wasting your time up there; all the apples have already fallen to the ground. Come down here and eat them" Ron ,her older brother said sarcastically._

"_Oh do stop it Ron" Glynnis Watson said to him as she clutched his arm and tried to drag him away. "If you leave the poor child alone, I'll let you steal a kiss later" she laughingly said and she tossed her blonde curls over her shoulder._

_Nyssa, Glynnis' twin sister in every way except her hair was straight, not curly, grabbed his other arm, pouted prettily and said "keep your lips to yourself wench. He has already promised his kisses to me!_

"_Don't fret ladies, I have enough kisses to go round" Ron squeezed them both till they squealed. "Although I don't have any to spare for Ginny!" he; laughed._

_Ginevra couldn't stop herself from replying "Go away Ron and leave me alone"_

"_And what will you do if I don't, sit on me?"_

_Glynnis and Nyssa made halfhearted attempts to cover their giggles. The rest of Ron's companions roared with laughter._

_Then an unfamiliar voice cut through their merriment "You heard the lady leave her alone." Harry Potters voice was smoother and deeper than Ginny had imagined. And he had called her a lady! But her wonder over that was quickly overtaken by mortification as she realized he must have heard the entire exchange. As she looked through the branches all she could see of her defender was the top of his head and the toes of his boots._

_Ron turned to the interloper. "And who the bloody hell are you to tell me-?" his snarl died on a croak as he went red then white." I d-didn't realize it was you my Lord," he stammered. "F-Forgive my rudeness"._

_Harry grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him away from the tree. Fifteen year old Ron may have outweighed him by a few pounds but he still had to crane his neck to look Harry in the face. "I am not your Lord yet, but I will be someday "Harry pointed out "and I must warn you that I never forget an injustice done to one of my people."_

_Ginevra bit her lip to still its trembling, amazed that their taunts couldn't make her cry but that his kindness could._

_Ron swallowed hard and said "I will not forget the warning sir"_

"_See that you don't"_

_Although Ron lead a subdued group from the clearing, Ginny caught the smoldering look he shot at the top of the tree. She would pay later for his humiliation. Her ragged nails bit into the bark of the tree as she realized they had done as she asked, they had left her alone_

_Alone with Him._

_She pressed her cheek against the tree and prayed she could simply disappear._

_A matter of fact voice crushed her hopes, "They're gone, and you can come down now."_

_She closed her eyes, dreading the contempt she would see on his face if she accepted his invitation._

"_I'm really quite comfortable where I am"_

_He sighed "It isn't every day I get to save a damsel in distress. I would think you would want to thank me"_

"_Thank you. Now would you please just go away and leave me be?"_

_Defying him had been her first mistake." No this is my land and my tree. If you don't come down I'll come up after you." He planted one boot in the lowest crook of the tree and reached for a branch to pull himself up by._

_Already imagining how fast those strong arms and long legs could scale a tree Ginny made her second mistake, she began to scramble higher. But in her haste she forgot to test the limbs before putting her weight on it. There was a creek, then a crack and then she was plummeting toward the ground. Her last coherent thought was_** 'please god let me land on my head and break my neck'**_. But the fickle branches again betrayed her by breaking her fall instead._

_She had only a brief glimpse of Harrys shocked face before she slammed into him, knocking him flat on the ground. It took Ginny a moment to catch her breath. When she opened her eyes Harry was stretched out beneath her. His face only an inch from her own._

_His eyes were closed; his long satiny lashes fanned his sun kissed cheeks. Ginny was so close she could even make out the fuzz on his jaw that one day soon would be dark whiskers._

"_My Lord?" she whispered_

_He neither groaned nor stirred_

_She moaned "oh God I've gone and killed him!"_

_If only the fall had killed her as well! Then the villagers could find them there. Her body draped over his protectively. United in death as they had never been in life. Unable to resist the heartbreaking pathos of the image, Ginevra buried her head in his neck and sobbed._

_Suddenly she felt something wet, that wasn't her tears running over her face. She looked up, straight into the open mouth of Harry's huge dog. He is standing directly over their heads and is drooling right onto them both. When she looks at him he gives a short bark and she could almost swear he was smiling at her._

"_Are you hurt "came a smoky whisper?_

_Ginny lowered her head and saw that Harry's eyes were open but not in the death stare she had feared. They were a rich green, like the rarest of emeralds and they sparkled with mirth as he looked at her._

"_I said are you hurt?' he repeated as he gently reached up and removed a leaf from her hair._

_Coming quickly to her senses Ginny jumps up off him. "I've hurt nothing but my pride" she says. "And you? Are you hurt?" _

_Glancing at the dog with affection as he wipes the drool from his forehead Harry says." No I am not hurt. It would take more than having a child land in my lap to hurt me."_

_A child! Ginny could almost feel her braids begin to bristle._

_He brushed a twig from his own hair, eyeing her from beneath that wayward lock that falls across his brow." I have seen at the castle before, haven't I? You're the child of my father's friend and advisor. Mr. Weasley?" _

"_One of them, yes.' She replied tersely, not wanting him to suspect she lived for the times when father would allow her to go with him to the castle while he conducted his business. He mustn't know how she would try to catch even the smallest glimpse of him bounding down the stairs or running on the grounds with his dog. To Ginevra, Castle Potter had always been a place of dreams, a place of enchantment where even the most unlikely of dreams could come true._

"_You're the baby then? I have met your older brothers, the twins. Quite a cheeky pair,Arent they?" A bemused smile softened his lips as he asked her "you're not like them are you?"_

_Ginevra folded her arm across her chest and replied " No Unlike them I do have some common sense"_

_He looked her up and down in frank assessment and said in a mock serious tone. "Yes I have witnessed your common sense recently, but not uncommon in a child your age"_

_A Child! Somehow it galled her more that he called her a child again instead of his implying she had no sense. How could she have ever thought she loved this arrogant boy! Why .She loathed him! She drew herself up to her full four foot three inches and said. "I suppose just because you live in a big castle and order people around you fancy yourself as a full grown man? You are just fourteen yourself"._

"_I've still some growing to do, as do you." He nodded in agreement. Then her reached out and wrapped one of her fiery braids around his hand and drew her closer so he could whisper in her ear. "But my father believes me man enough to escort a most esteemed guest to the castle tonight."_

_Ginny jerked her braid from his hand and tossed it over her shoulder, terrified he was going to pat her head or twitch her nose any minute " And just who would that guest be?"_

_He straightened and looking very smug he said" That is one secret I could never trust to a mere slip of a girl"_

_Horrid Boy. Wretched boy. Wretched horrid boy! "Then I best be on my way hadn't I, so you can attend to your manly duties." She started up the hill absurdly pleased that he actually looked taken aback by her desertion._

" _If you'd like I could give you a hint" He called after her._

_She refused to flatter him with a reply. She simply stopped and waited in stony silence._

"_He is the most powerful man since Merlin"_

_Since Ginny had thought that described him up till a moment ago, she was none too impressed. She started walking again._

"_If that boy bothers you again, you be sure to let me know" he called._

_Ginevra squeezed her eyes shut against a rush of longing. In so many dreams he had been her champion and to hear him offer to be in reality was almost more than she could stand, but she drew her tattered pride around herself and turned stiffly and asked him " Is that a request or a command?"_

_As he rested his hands on his lean hip, she realized she had once again made the mistake of defying him." Consider it a command, after all one day I'll be your lord and master, as well as his"_

_Ginny tilted her nose in the air and said "That's where your wrong Harry Potter! No man shall ever be my Lord and master!"_

_She wheeled around and marched off, missing the smile that played across Harrys' mouth as he whispered." I wouldn't be so sure of that Luv if I were you"._

**A/N – This story is a compilation of several of my favorite novels, tweaked to fit in the Harry Potter world. Anything you may recognize is not mine.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Scotland, the Highlands Ten Years later

The Dragon of Hogsmeade prowled through his crumbling lair in the darkness. Stalking the paraphets, He fought the urge to throw back his head and roar savagely. He had been a prisoner of the daylight for too long. Only when the shadows of darkness cloaked the castles ruins did he shake off his chains and roam his domain. The darkness was his dominion now, the only kingdom left to him.

As he gazed at the sea the chill bite of the wind stung his eyes but failed to penetrate the armor of his skin. Since coming to this place he had grown numb to all but the harshest of provocations. A whispered endearment, the soft caress of a woman's touch, had all become a distant and cooling memory to him.

A storm was brewing over the horizon. The blustering wind whipped his cloak around his body, as it sent the waves crashing into the cliffs below with brutal might. The lightning slung a web from cloud to cloud before leaving the sky in inky darkness once more.

The approaching storm reflected his wildness back to him like the shards of a broken mirror; He bared his teeth in an expression few would call a smile as he envisioned them cowering in their beds. He imagined how they trembled when they envisioned his wrath. They believed him to be a monster, without conscience or mercy. He has made it clear his demand were law, his will unshakable. The cowardly ease of their surrender should have brought him some satisfaction, but in the end it only made him more furious.

They were supposed to be cursed. But he was the one feeling the fires of damnation licking at his soul. He was the one doomed to roam the shattered ruin of his dreams, without even a mate to ease his loneliness. He might never be able to quench his insatiable appetites but on this night he would no longer deny himself some small measure of comfort to take the edge off his longing. On this night he would seek to satisfy the primal need that lurked in every beast-even man.

Tonight, the dragon would hunt!

Ginny Weasley did not believe in dragons.

So when a desperate pounding sounded on the door of the Burrow, Followed by a frantic shout of "The Dragons on a rampage, He will murder us all in our beds!" She simply rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. She would almost rather be murdered in her bed than snatched from her dreams by the ravings of a blithering idiot. She plugged her fingers in her ears but could still hear the sound of Nana stomping across the hall below, muttering a litany of curses invoking various parts of Gods anatomy, some less holy than others.

The pounding came again and Nana wrenched the door open. There stood Percy Weasley, drenched to the bone and panting as if he had run from the devil himself and just barely got away.

"What is the meaning of this you fool? To come beating on the doors of good Christian people at this hour! Has you been in the pub again Percival?" Although visibly shaken by the sight of an angry Nana with her hair wrapped in rags, Percy stood his ground. "I apologize for coming at this hour Nana but we need Ginny immediately! The Dragon has left a new message!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. She never thought she would come to rue her love for reading and learning new dialects. She threw back her covers with a sigh, scattering books in every direction. Grabbing a shawl to cover her nightdress she walks out onto the landing and leans against the railing of what was once a minstrel's gallery in the Burrows finer days. She might have ignored Percy and returned to her bed if her father hadn't chosen that moment to awaken. He floated out of his room below like a ghost of the vibrant man she remembered from her childhood. Ginny started down the stairs her heart clenching in her chest. She wasn't sure which was more painful- his helplessness or her own.

"Ginny?" he called plaintively

"I'm right here Papa" she assured him as she took his arm to steady him.

"I heard such a terrible commotion," Her father said, his hand clenching her arm in fright. "Is it the English? Has Voldemort returned?"

"No Papa," Ginny replied, smoothing his faded hair from his brow. Arthur Weasley sometimes forgot his own name, but he had never forgotten the ruthless English Lord who had stolen his sanity nearly Ten years ago.

"Voldemort is not coming back. Tonight or any night" Ginny promised him. "You needn't worry about Voldemort or his cronies. It's just that silly Dragon making mischief again at our expense."

Her father looked her in the eye and with a moment of clarity said "You must tell them to do whatever he says or it will be the ruin of us all"

Percy spoke up and said "Papa, I need to take Ginny with me to read his note. It was addressed to her again"

"Go with him luv, you're our only hope."

"I'll go as soon as you're back in your bed, nice and warm." she tells him as she leads him back to his room. As he settles beneath his covers he pats her hand and says," My sweet girl, you are too good to is nothing you won't do for me."

"Yes Papa, Even slay a dragon" she kisses him on his head.

Back in the hall Nana hands her a sweater and gives her a quick hug for support as she follows Percy into the night. The walk to the village is quick as Percy is in a hurry and Ginny has to almost run to keep up with his long strides. Arriving in the village center she is unsurprised to see the crowd waiting by the entrance to the pub

Of course all her brothers were present each with some girl hanging off their arms. All five of them appeared to be drunk, especially Ron who was demanding they form a hunting party. "I say we storm the castle and burn it to the ground. Maybe then he will go back to hell and leave us alone!" Ron bellowed. "Do any of you have the Bollocks to come with me?"

His challenge met with nothing but awkward silence and averted eyes. Most stood shamefaced, some defiant but none moved towards the castle on the hill. Just as they had not moved towards it that horrible night ten years ago when their Lord needed them...

Although there were those who had always whispered the castle was haunted, there had been no sign of any spirits there up until almost three months prior. That's when the gossip of people seeing lights in the tower rooms started. Next came the hearing of music playing. Finally one brave child on a dare from his friends approached the castle gate and when it opened was met with the roar of a wild animal. The terrified child ran all the way home screaming that a Dragon was after him.

That very night the first note appeared on the tree. It was addressed to Ginevra so her brothers dragged her to town to read it. After listening to the towns folks go on about the danger of the Dragon Ginny spoke up. "I think this 'Dragon' is nothing more than a cruel hoax. It is someone willing to prey upon your willingness to punish yourselves for a wrong that can't be undone."

Old Abe replied "Begging' your pardon Miss, But we called you here to read, Not think."

Ginny snapped her mouth shut and opened the creamy vellum and read. "Well it appears your Dragon is hungry. If it wouldn't be too much bother, He would like a haunch of fresh venison, a jug of well- aged whiskey…" Several men nodded their heads in approval. However devilish the Dragons threats may be, they couldn't fault his taste in fine liquor "And," Ginevra faltered, her icy voice melting to a whisper."…One thousand pounds in gold."

The gasps of horror were all around her. It had been whispered for years that one thousand pounds was the price paid to someone in the village to betray Lord Potter to the English. "And if we don't deliver the gold?" Abe asked

Ginny lowered her eyes to the missive. Briefly she considered lying but knew it would do no good "He says it will spell the doom for Hogsmeade."

That was three months ago. Every week had been the same, more notes, more demands, and more threats. Tonight will be no different Ginny is sure.

She is wrong.

Old Abe stepped into their midst holding a sheet of vellum. It would have been found in the same place as the others, pinned with a flaming arrow to the trunk of the old oak tree that stands sentinel over the village. Abe hands the note to Ginny without saying a word.

She opens the missive and begins to read. As always she is astounded at the fact that the letter is addressed to her and like every time before it is written in Latin. She wonders briefly again how he knew she could read Latin. Snapping her attention back to the note she begins to read.

_Miss. Ginevra,_

_I come to you again a hungry beast. I require the usual staples, meats, bread, and drink. You know what I prefer so I will not take your time to list them in detail again._

_But in addition to my normal needs I am in need this cold, wet evening of something special and unique. I want a woman to warm my bed. Not just any woman will do. She must be intelligent with generous curves to warm this cold dragon. She must be brave and strong. She must have fiery red hair. She must be innocent. To put it bluntly and forgive me for being indelicate, I want a virgin. In short Miss Ginevra she must be YOU! Deliver my goods to the normal place tonight by midnight._

_The Dragon._

She crumpled the Dragons vellum in her fist. How dare he! Wishing she had never been fool enough to leave her cozy bed. Even her father's fitful sanity was preferable to this madness.

A peculiar silence fell over the gathering. Even the wind seemed to be holding its breath. Ginny turned back to find herself facing a gauntlet of assessing eyes. Faces she had known since childhood had closed into the forbidding masks of strangers. "Oh no," Ginny said taking an involuntary step backwards. "Surely you don't think that I am going along with this any further?

Ron looked her up and down, assessing the generous curves "The Dragon could live on that a while, couldn't he?"

"He wouldn't trouble us for a long time if he could make a meal outta her" someone else muttered

"She might even eat him if she got hungry enough" Ron said with a smirk.

She despised that smirk even more now than when they were children. Ginny began backing up. The villagers kept advancing toward her, looking more like a mob every second. "I won't do it. I am not going anywhere near that dragon". She began taking two steps for their one. She frantically looked to her other brothers for help, but they were laughing and nuzzling their women, too drunk to even realize what was happening.

'I'll have to run for it 'she thought, if she could make it to the Burrow, Nana would deal with them. How she would love to take a rolling pin to Ron's hide. She turned to run and had barely made it three steps when she ran straight into Glynnis, Nyssa and their mother. Looking into that woman's maternal smile she realized. It wasn't the men of Hogsmeade she had to fear, but the women.


	3. Chapter 3

The Dragons Bride, Chapter Two

As the village women herded Ginny to the Watson cottage to prepare her for the Dragons pleasure, everyone was singing her praises. She had to grit her teeth when Kitty, One of the youngest girls in town, emitted a high squeal and commenced to telling her how noble and brave she was for sacrificing herself for them all.

"Yes," Glynnis agreed," we will never forget you."

"I doubt you will have the chance to, as I plan to be back in my own bed come morning!"

But Marsha and her mates had other ideas. Every time Ginny tried to rise from the stool they had sat her upon in front of the fire, they shoved her back down. They had already removed her practical woolen gown and stuffed her into a white linen garment more suited to a virgin sacrifice. As the women unwound her braids and began to brush out her hair, Granny Watson moved close and peered into her face. "Her mother was such a beauty, is a pity she doesn't look more like her"

The old woman's word caused Ginevra only a moment's sting. She had long ago accepted that she was not a raving beauty. Granny continued by saying "she does have sweet dimples and pretty hair like her mama".

"Is just as well you were chosen child, you're nearly twenty years old. You haven't much hope of getting a husband at your age and with no dowry for ya." Marsha told her

"Perhaps Old Taylor would marry Ginny?" Kitty suggested helpfully

"No thank you, I would rather be eaten by a dragon than gummed to death by that old rascal."

As Marsha spread Ginny's molten hair around her shoulders in a gleaming mantle, a crack of thunder shook the cottage, making them all jump. Ginny folded her hands in her lap to hide their sudden trembling. She twisted her hands together to fight a sudden flare of panic. 'What will become of Papa if anything should happen to me' she thought. It wouldn't take more than an hour for Nana to lose all patience with him.

"You needn't worry about your papa, we will help see after him" Nyssa volunteered as if she had read her mind.

"That's very kind of you to offer, since none of you have ever helped me before. All the times he managed to sneak away not one of you lifted a finger to bring him home or to get help for him. He would have frozen to death last winter if Nana and I hadn't found him when we did"

"There's no such thing as dragons " Ginny mumbled beneath her breath, "I'll be home in time to give papa his breakfast" A loud crash shook the rafters causing Ginny to jump, But looking up into the guilty faces of the women she realized the crash wasn't thunder but fists pounding on the door.

They had come for her.

Although they bound her hands in front of her, Ginny marched grimly at the head of the mob refusing to be dragged. The wind whipped her hair across her face in stinging cords. Lightening crackled across the sky and thunder rumbled and swelled like the hungry growl in some giant beast's belly. Although she steeled herself for it arrival, the first cold drops of rain stung her skin.

Ron and Albert, Marsha's husband, marched on either side of her, herding her along the steep path up the Cliffside. Ginny gazed straight ahead until the forbidding shadow of Castle Potter fell over them. The fortress crowned the cliff, eerily beautiful in its decay. On this night there were no ghostly flickering's of lights in the high windows, no ghostly wail of bagpipes from the hall. Yet the enchanted castle of Ginny's childhood dreams had become her personal nightmare and the sight of it filled her with dread. Albert swore beneath his breath and even Ron couldn't hide his trembling hands. As they shoved her to move her along faster, she stumbled for the first time since they had seized her. Ron gave her arm a harsh jerk and Ginny went down on one knee hard. She arose quickly because the sense of the townsfolk's panic was swelling. The villagers were looking around frantically, As if expecting their doom to sweep down on then at any moment. Hastening her steps she was almost relieved to see the remains of the large iron gates come into view. This time it wasn't Ginny but the villagers who faltered.

Until this night, all the offerings to the Dragon had been left outside the gate. Except for the lad who was foolish enough to enter on the dare of his peers, no one had entered that gate since the bleak morning ten years ago when the villagers had carried the bodies of their Lord and his family down the hillside.

For a moment Ginny believed she may have been saved, none of them would dare to breach the unholy sanctuary of the castles courtyard, But that was before Ron wrenched one of the rusty gates clean off its hinges as he shouted " Let's be done with it then"

Ginny began to struggle in earnest as they drove her through the gates. Once they had dragged her to the heart of the courtyard it didn't take Ron long to find a hole in the weed-choked cobblestones .Albert handed him a sledgehammer and with one might stroke he drove a long stake into the ground. Albert bound her hands behind her and secured her shoulders and waist to the pole, before saying" May god have mercy on your soul girl."

"If you leave me here it won't be _my soul_ needing mercy but yours!" she bit off through chattering teeth," especially if I perish from exposure and you return to find nothing but my bones"

"The Dragon will be picking his teeth with them by morning" Ron snarled

Before Ginny could spit in his face the sky exploded, a forked tongue of flame descended from the heavens followed by a thunderous crack of a serpentine tail. "It's the Dragon "a woman screamed, "He is coming for her!"

A mighty roar seemed to pour from the mouth of hell itself. Its deafening clamor seemed to go on forever and sent the terrified villagers screaming into the night, leaving Ginny alone and at the Dragons mercy.

Ginny could not have said when she closed her eyes and began to scream, she only knew that the terrible roar died the exact moment of her scream. She slumped away from her bonds, going limp with terror. The spike at her back the only thing keeping her on her feet. It took her several moments to feel that the rain was coming down much lighter now. It took her even longer to screw up the courage to open her eyes. When she did she discovered her only companion was the headless statue of a woman in the corner, standing as forlorn and abandoned as she felt. She swallowed a knot of panic. At least she still had her head, _For Now._

Looking around at the desolate yard, it was hard to imagine this yard was once her dreamland of where fine ladies would walk with dashing gentlemen and dance till dawn to the wonderful music. Dreams of where a boy with emerald eyes and a proud chin might mistake her for an angel.

As she continued to search the shadows, she realized with a start she wasn't alone after all. Someone…Or something, was watching her. Although it cost her the very last crumbs of her strength she forced herself stiffly upright. She refused to meet any monster, real or imagined while cowering in terror.

"I don't believe in you, you know," she called out. Embarrassed by the hoarse croak of her voice she called again." I am not some ignorant peasant you can intimidate with your superstitious nonsense".

A gust of wind swirled through the courtyard snatching away her words and leaving gooseflesh on her arms._ There_! In the corner to her left something had moved. Even as she watched some formless shape was separating itself from the shadows. Her entire body began to shake with a bone deep chill that had nothing to do with the rain and cold.

"You don't exist," she whispered, praying that if she said it enough it would be true." You don't exist, you're not real. I do not believe in you". Every instinct urged her to close her eyes and make the thing that was slowly emerging from the darkness go away. But the same damnable curiosity that had once prompted her to dip one of Nana's hair rags in oil and light it-while nana was wearing it, wouldn't even allow her to blink.

In the end its wasn't it wasn't the stark ebony wings that rippled around the magnificent breadth of his shoulders or the silvery smoke streaming from his nostrils that proved to be Ginevra's undoing. It was his face- a face more terrible and beautiful than any she might have imagined.

That face was the last thing she saw before her eyes rolled back into her head and she slumped in a dead faint.

.


	4. Chapter 4

The Dragons Bride- chapter 3

As The man who called himself the Dragon gazed with stunned disbelief at the offering the villagers had left for him, the lit cigar tumbled from his lips and hissed to its death in a puddle of rainwater.

"I know you have earned the reputation for making women swoon," his companion remarked stepping from the shadows and cocking one dark eyebrow," but never before at the mere sight of you" He laughed.

The Dragon began to circle the stake, His long black cloak billowing around his ankles as he walked. "What the holy hell possessed them to bring me a woman? All I asked for was a haunch of venison and a jug of whiskey to warm my bones on this miserable night."

I'd wager she will warm your bones much more thoroughly than any whiskey" his friend murmured as he appreciatively eyed the woman's ample breasts and lush hips.

She appeared to be wearing a diaphanous length of fabric that was more shift than gown. Rain had plastered the fabric to her skin leaving little to a man's imagination. The shadow of a dusky nipple peeped shyly through the wet strands of crimson hair that spilled over her breast.

Realizing with a start that he was ogling her just as avidly as his companion, the Dragon took off his cloak and wrapped it around her, swearing beneath his breath.

She had slumped forward when she swooned. He gently tipped up her chin with one finger to reveal a jaw that was strong but compelling. A hint of a dimple graced her cheek. Her lips were full and red; her skin as soft and white as fleece.

"Bloody savages," he muttered as he tugged on her bonds. "What were they thinking? Leaving her trussed up like some sacrificial lamb. I ought to fetch my pistol and shoot the lot of them."

"Then they might think you were not pleased with their gift."

He shot his friend a dark look as he began to work on the ropes holding her. The wet ropes resisted his efforts to untie them. When he saw the raw grooves they had cut into her arms he swore again, more savagely this time. He pulled his long knife from his belt and with a quick thrust cut the ropes from her. As the ropes fell away her knees crumpled, he scooped her up in his arms and stared for the castle.

His companion abruptly sobered. "Do you really think that's wise? If she sees your face…?" He left the question unfinished but the Dragon knew only too well the consequences of such folly. Without turning around he asked "what would you have me do with her? Leave her out her to drown in this storm like an abandoned kitten? "

A loud crack of thunder deafened him to his friend's response. The sky opened in a downpour at that moment and the Dragon cradling the shivering woman to his chest raced for the castle, left with no choice but to carry her into his lair.

As he walked into the hallway he was met by another man with long shaggy hair. When the man saw what the Dragon was carrying he gave a loud barking laugh.

"What is so goddamned funny?" the Dragon demanded of him.

"I can't believe she actually came" the man wheezed out between barks.

The Dragon looked at him and taking in the mirth on his face, a cold chill spread up his spine. "what have you done mutt?" he said coldly.

"Just brought you some worthy entertainment pup" the man said with a smile. "I have been watching this one, she has spirit. I am sure you will find her a challenge."

"Sirius! What the hell are you trying to do? This will ruin everything if anyone finds out who I am!" The Dragon bellowed. He quickly lowered his voice when the woman in his arms flinched. "What the hell were you thinking? You know the plan and you are bringing ruination down on us all. What will I do with her?"

"Keep her." Sirius said as he turned and walked away.

Without bothering to open her eyes, Ginny stretched almost purring in contentment. She never dreamed it would be so cozy in a dragon's belly. On the contrary, when that _thing_ had emerged from the shadows, a hundred images of her painful death had crowded her mind. She rolled to her side. Whatever she was lying on was so soft and plush it was like a cloud. A rich aroma of spices filled the air. Yes she decided, a dragons belly was a very comfortable place to be. If she had believed in dragons.

Coming fully awake, she drew a deep breath and sat up. When she looked around her she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. She wasn't in a beasts belly but a beautiful bed chamber. She floated in a sea of midnight blue satin. The rumpled bedclothes shrouded and white four posters whose carved columns floated upwards in a graceful swirl. Lit candles ringed the bed and gave off a fragrance of sandalwood that was deeply intoxicating to the senses. The flickering halo of light drew Ginny's eyes to the painted mural on the domed ceiling.

Nude women, goddesses and mortals frolicked in pastel meadows and chased and teased their lovers to come to them. There was Persephone forsaking spring to surrender her heart to the lord of darkness; Psyche waking in a bed of flowers while cupid watched from the shadows, his beautiful face forever hidden from her eyes.

Ginny craned her neck, so entranced by their shameless sensuality that she barely felt the sheet slide from her shoulders. She might not have noticed it at all if not for the sharply indrawn breath that was not her own. She glanced down and realized with a shock that beneath the sheet she was just as naked as Psyche.

The luminous candlelight gave the bed the unholy glow of a sacrificial alter, while leaving the corners of the room in darkness. But she knew she was not alone.

Ginny shook her hair out of her eyes. "Only the worst coward would spy on a woman from the shadows. I dare you to show yourself. She heard a muffled footfall and instantly regretted her challenge. If this was Hell, She was about to meet its overlord.

"There is no need to blanch and cower beneath the blankets. I am no Dragon or monster, just a man." A smoky baritone said from the dark.

Ginny squinted into the corner. She wasn't certain if she was frightened or relieved when the man stopped just short of emerging from his shadows the flicker of the candles kept her eyes from adjusting ,she could make out little more than a figure leaning against the wall with indifferent grace.

"If I am cowering beneath the blankets sir" she said," it's because some shameless scoundrel has stolen my clothes."

"If I was so shameless a scoundrel, there would have been no need to steal them; you would have surrendered them gladly."

The clipped English bore no trace of a burr to soften its mockery. Against her will Ginny was beset by the image of strong masculine hands peeling the wet fabric from her naked body. She clenched her teeth to hide a shiver that had little to do with her fear. "You dare to accuse me of cowardice, yet you're the one hiding in the shadows, too craven to show your face."

"Perhaps it's not fear for myself that prompts my caution, but fear for you."

"Is your face so horrible to look upon it will drive me insane or turn me to stone?"

"It already made you faint"

Ginny touched her fingers to her temples trying to recall that image from the courtyard. Unable to draw more than a hazy recollection of him emerging terrible from the shadows, she recalled a face made all the more terrible by its utter impossibility. She struggled to capture the memory but it faded away as elusive as the stranger taunting her from the shadows.

"Who are you?" she demanded

"The villagers call me the Dragon" he replied.

"Then I shall call you charlatan. Since only a charlatan would pull such a cruel hoax."

"You wound me, my lady", he said. The hint of laughter in his voice telling her she had only succeeded in amusing him.

"I am no lady "she said.

"And I am no gentleman" He replied.

She was unsure as to take this as reassurance or warning. Ginny dared a glance beneath the sheet before giving him a smile as sweetly mocking as she imagined his to be. "So I gathered, if you were I would still be wearing my clothes."

"And still in danger of dying from pneumonia" his voice hardened. "The villagers dragged you up the cliff in the pouring rain, bound you to that stake and left you to die at my hands," he snorted. "And they have the nerve call _me _a monster."

Ginny focused on where his eyes should be, "I don't see how you can condemn then when they were responding to your greedy demands"

His sudden stillness warned her to tread with care. "Why do you defend them when the trussed you up and tossed you away like bad rubbish?"

"because they are foolish, uneducated and misguided, but you're nothing more than a mean spirited bully preying on ignorant superstitions and terrorizing innocent people"

"They may be ignorant but they are far from innocent. They've more blood on their hands than I do."

Up until that moment Ginny would have sworn her captor was English, but a soft burr had entered his voice along with his anger and passion. "Who are you?" she whispered again.

"Perhaps I should be the one asking that question." His voice even more clipped than before." By what name do I call you?"

Frustration emboldened her. "You refuse to tell me your name yet I have no lack of names for you."

"Like bully, charlatan, scoundrel, coward?" he offered

She bit her bottom lip, tempted to let loose a string of oaths that would make Nana blush. "Ginevra. My name is Ginevra Weasley"

She gasped as a gust of wind swept through the chamber, extinguishing the candles. At first she thought he had gone, leaving her to the darkness, but then he was there surrounding her on all sides without once touching her. She breathed him in-the aroma of sandalwood and spice on his skin, more intoxicating than any liquor. In that moment she knew exactly where she was. _His _bedchamber._ In his bed!_

"_Why you?" he whispered with a strange urgency. "Why did he choose you?"_

_She closed her eyes thankful he couldn't see her burning cheeks. "I think they chose me because virgins are even more uncommon in Hogsmeade than dragons" she answered softly._

_His hand brushed her damp hair, its treacherous tenderness reminding her without words that it could be more dangerous to be at a man's mercy than a monster's. "A thousand pounds. Is that the price they are putting on innocence these days?"_

_He did not wait for an answer she didn't have. There was another gust of wind, then more darkness. But this time she knew he had gone. She hugged her knees to her chest and glanced up at the mural she could no longer see. She had never felt so alone in her life._

\


	5. Chapter 5

The Dragons Bride- Chapter 5

The Dragon had never cared too much for the taste of virgins. Their flesh might be delectably tender, but wooing them required both patience and charm, two qualities he was sadly lacking.

As he wound his way into the depths of the castle, stepping over shattered stones and old bloodstains without a second thought, he cursed his ill fortune. He had never intended for his elaborate hoax to lure a woman into his lair, especially not a woman as maddening as the one who now kept him from his bed.

When he had lain her on the rumpled bed, unwrapped his cloak and started to peel the wet fabric from her icy body, his only thought had been to warm her. But as each inch of snowy skin was revealed, the detachment that usually served him so well abandoned him. His own flesh had been gripped by a primal fever that churned low in his belly and made him burn to touch her. It had been torture enough when his eyes had feasted on the pale smooth perfectness of her breasts, but when he caught himself trying to steal a glimpse of the soft red patch of down he knew he would find between her thighs he jerked the sheet up over her. While he had kept his candlelight vigil waiting for her to regain consciousness he had ample time to wonder if he had truly become such a beats as to ravish an insensible woman. He lengthened his stride and raked his damp hair out of his face. Not that there was anything 'insensible' about his captive. As she had warned him in the courtyard, she was the most sensible of creatures. She didn't believe in dragons, and she didn't believe in him. He couldn't take offense at the insult, since he didn't believe in himself either.

If he had expected those big brown eyes to well with tears as she pled for her life and her freedom, he would have been sorely disappointed. She had even dared to chide him for his greed. She might have even shamed him if he still had a conscience.

He was shaking his head at her boldness when he rounded the corner to discover he had little hope of drying out his own damp clothing because his lavishly appointed wing chair, his cozy fire and his bottle of rum had been appropriated in his absence. The underground room had once served as antechamber to the castles dungeons and a haven to the guards. Rusty weapons adorned the walls giving a sinister, midlevel torture chamber feel to the room. But the room's grim ambiance wasn't bothering the man who had taken his chair. His stocking feet stretched towards the fire, in one hand he held a glass half filled with the amber liquor, the other was balancing his bagpipes against his knee.

The Dragon paced to the hearth, earning a glare from the tom cat lazing there. He had taken in Toby in the hopes of reducing the castles rat population. But Toby and the rats had seemed to reach some gentlemen's agreement. The rats would flourish and Toby would sleep twenty three hours a day.

The Dragon hadn't realized how exhausted he was till he had nowhere to sit. He swung around ignoring the unspoken question in his friend's eyes. "If you keep marching around on the parapets bleating on those pipes, Neville, we will be found out for sure."

"On the contrary," Neville said raising his glass to him in a toast, "I don't bleat at all, I'm a tolerable piper and best of all, the villagers think I'm a ghost", he said with a laugh.

The Dragon shook his head." I can't imagine why you are so enamored of this accursed country and all its trappings"

"What's not to love?" Neville exclaimed, the bogus burr he had taken to affecting since arriving in the Highlands growing deeper with each word." The misty mornin's? The sparkling burns that run through the glen? The quaint charm of its folk?"

"The Fog? The chill? The cold and damp?" The Dragon countered, backing closer to the fire.

Neville slanted him a sly look that was decidedly at odds with his cherubic face. "Aye, but with a bonny lass to warm your bed, even the cold and damp could be bearable"

"If you are referring to the bonny lass I just left in my bed, I assure you that the cold and damp would be better companions on a lonely night than her frosty contempt."

His interest piqued, Neville leaned forward in his chair and mercifully dropped the burr. "So what gruesome crime did this girl commit to deserve being fed to the likes of you?"

The Dragon sank down on the hearth ignoring Toby's growl of protest." No crime at all. She is innocent"

Neville snorted"Perhaps in her eyes, but not in the eyes of the villagers. What is she, a murderer? A thief?" His eyes got a hopeful twinkle, "a harlot?"

"I should be so fortunate. At least I would know what to do with a harlot. It's much worse than that. They intended her to be a sacrifice" The Dragon could feel his jaw stiffening as he tried to form a word he had never used in his dealings with women." A _virgin_ sacrifice!"

Neville gaped at him for a moment before throwing back his head and roaring with laughter. "A virgin? They have given _you_ a virgin? Oh that's priceless!"

"Not quite. The villagers seem to think she is worth a thousand pounds."

Neville abruptly sobered," I tried to tell you it was too soon to play that particular card. You should have given them time to fret over your demand. Given them time to start eyeing each other and wondering who has the ill-gotten treasure buried in their cellar". He sighed.:" But who am I to gainsay a man who has been knighted by the crown and amassed a fortune using nothing but his quick wits and utter lack of care for his own life? I'm descended from a long line of cowards. All I have to do is outlive a papa given to gout and heart palpitations and claim my title." He said waving his glass and spilling some on the flagstones before the Dragon whisked it from his hand. "You shouldn't drink, you know, It makes you blather."

"And it makes you brood" Neville retorted retrieving the glass and draining it dry.

The Dragons buried his hands in his ebony hair. "I am at a loss, whatever shall we do with her?"

Neville settled back in his chair. "Has she seen your face?"

"Of course not, I may be a bloody fool but I'm not an idiot"

"Then perhaps it's not too late for me to disguise myself as a rugged highlander and carry her back to the village."

"And what? Leave her in the square with a note pinned to her gown saying 'Thank you very much for the delectable virgin, but I'd prefer a nice tasty strumpet'?" He snorted" You might fool them with such a ruse but it's much too late to fool her. She already believes I am nothing but a greed charlatan out to fleece the villagers of their worldly goods"

"Couldn't you threaten her with your fiery wrath if she dares to expose you?" Neville snapped his fingers. "What if you changed into your other form? Scare her senseless!"

"It might have worked if they had given me a witless girl scared of her own shadow." He shook his head, his exasperation tinged with a touch of admiration. "This one won't be easy to fool. If we let her go, she will bring the whole village down on our heads and I'm not ready for that. Yet." He rose to pace the chamber." It seems I have no choice but to add abduction to my burgeoning list of sins."

"So you intend to keep her?"

"For now, but she must never see my face."

Neville lifted the glass to his lips before remembering it was empty. "And if she does?"

The Dragon surveyed his friend .his lips twisting in a bitter smile. "Then she will discover there are darker things in this world than dragons. You must remember Nev- The villager's just _think_ you're a ghost. I am one!"

**A/N~~~~~ I want to thank all of you who have taken the time to review this story. Also thank you to all who are following and on alerts. I hope you are enjoying the show.**


	6. Chapter 6

**The Dragons Bride –Chapter 5**

When Ginny awoke the next morning she was both angry and hungry- a dangerous combination when she was in her best temper, which she most definitely was not at the moment. She had spent a restless night brooding over M'Lord Dragons highhanded treatment of her and it hadn't helped that every breath she took she smelt Him. She sat up relieved she was no longer in darkness. A shaft of sunlight poured through a round iron grate set high on the wall. Last night all of her senses had been focused on her captor, and she had not noticed the sound of the breakers striking the rocks below. Now she realized he must have placed her in the tower that faced the sea, a tower that had been spared the worst of the English spell fire all those years ago.

She climbed out of bed, wrapping the sheet around her toga style, throwing a sly smile at the similarly dressed goddesses above her. Her robe from last night was lying in a sodden heap on the floor. She supposed it was too much to ask for a dragon to have had enough sense to hang it up to dry. As she circled the dusty chamber, it was quickly apparent that the luxurious bed area was the only clean oasis in the otherwise barren and neglected room. She lifted and old curtain and found and ancient privy. Any thoughts she may have had of escaping down its long dark shaft were abandoned when she kicked a piece of old plaster down the shaft and never heard it hit bottom. At least she would be spared the indignity of asking M'Lord Dragon to empty her chamber pot. Although, she thought with an evil grin, it might be worth sacrificing her dignity to insult his.

As she continued to inspect the room, she suddenly realized what was missing from the walls.

_A door!_ How would she get out if there was not a door? She could not remain there, she had things to do. She had her own life to live and since the dragon hadn't eaten her, she wanted to get back to it right away. Her Papa needed her. She was ashamed to realize it was the first she'd thought of Papa since last night.

She took a deep breath and began to circle the room again, prying at the panels with her fingernails. One of the panels had to hide the door she was sure, but soon found herself back where she started no closer to escape than she began. The Dragon may as well have her chained to the wall in the dungeon, she growled in frustration as her stomach growled with hunger.

A distant sound caught her attention. Pressing her ear against the panel she could hear what sounded like whistling. Very cheerful whistling. As she moved along the wall the sound grew "So M'Lord Dragon is in a good mood this morning, is he?" she whispered to herself. When she pressed her ear against the panel again, she heard footsteps, and they were coming closer.

Still gripping the sheet tightly with on hand, she looked around frantically for a weapon. All she could find was a short silver candelabrum on the bedside. Grabbing it she pressed herself against the wall and raised it above her head ready to strike. 'Let's see how the dragon likes being locked in the tower' she thought.

The panel clicked open and swung inward. A man ducked through the opening. Without giving herself time to lose her nerve, Ginny slammed the candlestick down on the back of his head. He slumped into a boneless heap.

"Oh no!" she cried, not in regret but dismay as the tray he had been carrying crashed to the floor along with him. The basket of sweet rolls and the pitcher of rich hot chocolate spilled onto the floor. She scrambled to rescue one of the rolls before it rolled under the bed, but the chocolate was a lost cause. She blew dust off the roll and sank her teeth into it as she surveyed her captive. M'Lord Dragon didn't look so fierce lying face down in a puddle of chocolate now did he? She nudged him with her foot but he did not stir. She knew she should take advantage of his stupor and run, but her curiosity made her stay. She couldn't leave without seeing the face of the dragon just once.

Clutching the sheet tightly she knelt down and shoved him over onto his back quickly. Her curiosity was quickly replaced by another emotion. _Disappointment._ This was the fierce beast that is terrorizing her people? This was the man with the smoky baritone that sent shiver across her skin? This was the man whose scent had kept her awake all night?

The hair on his head was pale and thinning at the crown. His generous girth strained the pearl buttons of his frock coat. His full cheeks were fair and stained with the natural blush of an Englishman. His nose was rounded, his mouth bland and overall his face was decidedly pleasant. Ginny slowly backed away from him chiding herself for being ridiculous. After all, what had she expected? Had she expected some handsome brooding rogue with piercing eyes and a devilish smile, some dark prince laboring beneath a curse that only she could lift with her kiss? She ought to be thankful that the beast was just a man and a very ordinary man at that.

"Farewell M'Lord Dragon," she murmured as she backed toward the open panel, "For I doubt we will ever meet again."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you" a pair of warm hands closed over her shoulders from behind, caressing the arch of her collarbones. "On the contrary, my dear, I think we best be prepared to enjoy each other's company for quite some time."

"Don't turn around" the Dragon commanded with the authority of a man used to having his orders obeyed.

Ginny was tempted to defy him, but the subtle pressure of his fingertips warned her he was capable of enforcing his command, with or without her cooperation. She didn't relish engaging him in a full on brawl while wearing nothing but a sheet.

She tried to form an image of him. She could tell he was taller than her by a head. He had the hands of an aristocrat, smooth with neatly clipped nails. He had a dusting of dark hair on his arms. As she breathed in his scent, she realized she had been a fool to think the man she had attacked was the Dragon, his mere presence made her tingle in awareness.

The other man sat up, rubbing the back of his head. "The cheeky chit ambushed me." He muttered, as he drew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the chocolate from his face. "I never saw it coming."

"One rarely does where a woman is concerned" the Dragon said dryly. She could sense him eyeing the remains of her breakfast. "I take it she doesn't like sweet rolls and chocolate?"

"'She' doesn't like being locked up like an animal in a cage!" Ginny retorted, trying to forget she was still in his arms.

His chuckle caressed her neck. "Wouldn't it be more pleasant to think of yourself as a pampered pet?"

"Even the most pampered of pets has been known to kill their masters if ill- treated or ignored."

"I assure you it is not my intention to deprive you of my attention." Before Ginny could fully absorb the rather alarming statement he nodded towards his companion. "Shall I make the introductions, Nev, or will you?"

The man climbed to his feet, dusted off his clothes and swept her a regal bow. "Neville Longbottom, my lady, at your service. But please call me Nev, all my friends do."

"Ginevra Weasley." She replied stiffly." And I fear I cannot consider you a friend,_ Mr. Longbottom,_ as long as you and your companion insist on holding me hostage."

"Now that the pleasantries are out of the way… Nev, your handkerchief please?" The Dragon said, holding his hand out.

"Neville looked puzzled until the Dragon pointed to Ginny's face. "Oh Yes of course" Neville said laying the cloth in his open hand.

As Ginny realized what he meant to do with it, she began to struggle and scratch at his hands. "If you toy with the blindfold" he murmured as he tied the scrap of linen over her eyes," I will bind your hands and that may make holding your sheet more challenging."

Ginny had no choice but to surrender to his will. It was mortifying enough to know he had seen her without her clothes; she would not be made sport of in front of the blushing Mr. Longbottom.

It would be easier to despise him if he had been rough with her but he took great care in making sure her hair didn't get stuck in the knot he was gently tying behind her head. Then as he caught her arm and steered her toward the bed his tight grip telling her his patience was at an end. "Leave us Nev; I would like a word with Miss Weasley. Alone."

"There's really no need for you to be angry with her mate, if I had taken more care…"

"You wouldn't have been knocked senseless? You can stop hovering like a nervous nursemaid. I have no intention of torturing or ravishing our guest. Yet" he finished darkly. The dreaded click of the panel came too soon.

"Sit." He commanded

She sat mutinously on the edge of the bed. The measured tread of the Dragons boot heel told her he was pacing." Surely you must realize that your untimely arrival at the Castle is as great a misfortune to me as it is to you. If I could let you leave I would. You are a distraction I don't need and I cannot afford."

"Then why don't you just send me home? I assure you I am needed there." she said hoping he would be merciful.

"Because I am as much a prisoner in all this as you are. I refuse to let you destroy everything I have labored over for-"the passion suddenly left his voice, "for the past months. You will simply have to remain my guest until my business with Hogsmeade is finished."

Your guest? Do you keep all your guests locked in a tower? And what business could a man like you have with a dying Highland town full of people too poor or mule headed to leave?" A new thought struck her " Is it the curse? Did you and Mr. Longbottom hear about the curse and decide we were easy prey for your tricks?"

She heard his cease pacing "I seem to recall some mention of a curse" She could imagine him smirking at her. "Ah yes I remember now, it seems your own Lord called down a curse on your whole village with his dying breath. Tell me Miss Weasley, what did your folk do to earn such a terrible fate?"

"It wasn't what they did; it's what they didn't do." Ginny bowed her head in shame, thankful he couldn't see the guilt in her eyes." Our Lord was a secret member of High Wizard Dumbledore's order. When Dumbledore was injured fighting _Him,_ Our Lord offered him sanctuary here at the castle to recover and regroup. "

"A noble if misguided act"

Ginny jerked her head up in his direction," Misguided? No it don't think so. Lord Potter was a brave and strong man, a man of vision and courage who stood up for what he believed in. and he dreamed of a world at peace, a world free from evils tyranny."

"But at what price Miss Weasley? Even the most magnificent of dreams has a way of turning to ash by the light of day."

Ginny's passionate denial died in her throat. She couldn't defend her Lord when she was sitting in the ruins of his dreams. "'_He' _had spies everywhere. And soon found out Dumbledore was here. He brought all his followers and attacked the castle. Dumbledore escaped into the night before they attacked, But _'He'_ was going to make our Lord pay for defying him. They attacked with everything they had and opened fire on the castle."

"I suppose this is where your loyal townsfolk flocked to his defense. Wands waving, rage in their eyes for this madman who dared to come after their Lord?"

"They didn't come to his defense. The Potter's were forced to stand alone."

"No wonder he cursed them" He said with a cold cynical laugh. "So the good village of Hogsmeade just huddled in their homes, behind bolted doors while Their Lord and his family were massacred." Somehow the utter lack of emotion in his voice made his word all the more damning.

"They thought they would be spared from '_him'_ if they didn't interfere."

"And were they?"

"They weren't murdered in their beds, their wives and daughters weren't raped and forced to bare Death Eater children.

The Dragon began to pace again, the husky tone of his voice mesmerizing her. "But 'He" took everything from them didn't 'He'. Their sons taken away to fight for his forces. All the money they had ever saved stolen and feeding his men. Their wands broken and their magic sealed? The youngest and strongest fled town, while the rest spent the next ten years looking over their shoulders waiting for doom to sweep down out of the sky like an avenging angel to destroy them."

How do you know all this?" she asked, astonished at him.

"Perhaps I am that Angel."

**A/N - Thanks to all who have reviewed. It's so nice to know what the readers are thinking. In this chapter I hope I have answered a few of your questions. I can't answer them all of course because that would be giving the story away. Hope you enjoy this chapter- until next time.**


	7. Chapter 7

The Dragons Bride-Chapter 6

Before Ginny could decide if he was mocking her or himself, he laughed. "Or perhaps in just an opportunistic devil who bought a drink for a run-down old highlander in a tavern. Perhaps he spilled all of Hogsmeade's secrets in my ear, including the tantalizing morsel that someone in your town may be hoarding the thousand pound reward they earned for betraying your Lord. Perhaps he even told me the coat of arms of the Potter was a fire breathing dragon."

"Perhaps he did, as no one blathers more than a drunk highlander" she agreed, wanting desperately to believe him.

"You have never seen Neville after a few glasses of port."

"And I don't care to. Which is one more reason why I want you to let me go?"

"So we are back to that are we?"

An image of her Papa's face, crumpling with confusion as she wondered why she hadn't come to dress him or fix his breakfast drifted into Ginny's head. "What of my family? Have you no regard for their feelings? Would you have them think I was dead?"

A disarming note of anger entered his voice. "Where was your precious family when that mob of savages made off with you?"

Tucked in their beds, wrapped around their lovers, sleeping off their nightly drunk. That's what her brothers would have been doing. It made her so sad to think how her family had fallen apart without her mother's guiding hand. While the rest of the village were thanking her for her noble sacrifice, vowing never to forget her, Her own family would probably never miss her. Ginny swallowed her silence condemnation enough.

"That's just as I thought. The way I see it you're safer in my hands than in theirs."

Now that's, Ginny thought, was the biggest lie he had told. "What if I promised not to expose your little charade?"

She was unprepared for the shock of his gentle hand cupping her cheek. "You would be lying."

As he stroked his thumb across her bottom lip, she closed her eyes beneath the blindfold, seeking to deny the melting effect his touch had on her.

"Couldn't you pretend to believe me? I can be quite convincing." She whispered.

"I am sure you can," he murmured" but I haven't trusted anyone in a very long time, and something tells me I would be a bloody fool to begin with you." He drew away, the clipped formality returning to his voice. "If you promise not to render him unconscious I'll send Neville with more breakfast. Will there be anything else you require during your stay?"

Ginny surged to her feet, throwing the corner of the sheet over her shoulder and speaking in the direction of his last comments. "There will be much I require. First I would suggest you double your demands of food, I am a woman of healthy appetites as you can well tell from my appearance and I will expect them to be thoroughly satisfied."

He seemed to have something stuck in his throat, making his reply sound choked. "I will consider it my privilege; I just hope you will find me up to the task."

"And surely you can't expect me to spend the rest of my incarceration garbed in this-this rag?" He didn't have to know how she loved the cool satin against her skin.

"Most certainly not! You can remove it anytime you like."

"And is shall also require some amusements to brighten the long days. I prefer the stimulation of books to needlework .I require dozens of them. I have been known to devour three to four a day"

"Ah so we return to your hearty appetites."

If she didn't believe he would have her hands bound before she could reach it, she would rip the blindfold off, just for the pleasure of glaring at him.

"Will there be anything else Miss Weasley?"

"I don't believe I will be needing anything else." she waited till she heard him move towards the panel before spitefully adding, "Yet!"

Ginny sank towards the throne like bed, hoping to maintain her air of regal dignity. This might have been possible, if she hadn't misjudged the distance and plopped down on the floor in a puddle of cold chocolate.

Her captor's rich laughter floated through the room. Ginny furiously jerked off the blindfold to find, the Dragon had flown.

A short while later, Ginny was perched on the foot of the bed, clinging to her soggy sheet and glaring at the panel when it crept open. Neville poked his head into the chamber like a timid turtle. "If you're going to knock me in the head again, miss, will you allow me to set the tray down first? White flour and Swiss chocolate are hard to come by in this part of the highlands."

"You are safe for the moment Mr. Longbottom; I am all out of candlesticks."

"That's a relief. Although getting clobbered did take my mind off the headache I acquired from drinking too much last night"

As he moved to set the tray on the bed, he gave her a wide berth as they eyed each other warily. With his puppy dog eyes and sandy cowlick, she supposed he looked harmless enough. But she couldn't afford to forget he was one of Satan's minions. "I gather your master will not be joining us?" she asked as she took a small sip of the warm chocolate.

"He isn't my master, he is my friend." Neville replied as he offered her a delicate china plate holding a delicious looking pastry.

She took it, savoring the aroma of cinnamon that rose from the warm dough. "I can't help but wonder how you came to make the acquaintance of such a-"she had to grit her teeth to keep from bringing her captors parentage into question, "A mysterious fellow."

Neville chuckled, "that's a long story and my Gran always says I talk too much. I wouldn't want to bore you."

"Oh please do" she implored, gesturing around the barren chamber. "What else have I to do?"

When he appeared to be wavering, she offered him a roll. Recognizing a kindred gleam in his eye. He wasted no time in plopping down on the opposite corner of the bed and tearing off a hunk of the buttery bread. Ginny picked up her own roll and took a large bite, In the interest of being companionable of course. As she chewed she looked at him earnestly, wanting him to confide in her. If she hoped to defeat the dragon in his own lair, she must learn his strengths and his weaknesses.

"We met four years ago in one of the gambling hells in London." He paused a moment to dust the crumbs from his clothes.

"Why am I not surprised?" Ginny hid the acid sweetness of her smile behind another sip of chocolate.

"I was alone in one of the back rooms preparing to shoot myself in the head-"At Ginny's horrified gasp he paused long enough to give her a small smile. " As I was saying in was preparing to shoot myself in the head when-"he paused again his mouth hanging open. She leaned forward hoping the name on his tongue would come tumbling out"-when _the Dragon _came strolling in."

And he stopped you?"

He shook his head, "No, he simply pointed out that I'd neglected to properly tamp down my charge and was just as likely to blow off my foot as my head. He removed the pistol from my hand and used his own rod to do the honors and then handed it back."

Ginny lowered her cup. "If he was determined to be so accommodating, why didn't he just shoot you himself?"

Neville chuckled," I was deep in my cups at the time and I do believe it was his matter of fact manner that sobered me out of my self-pity. You see- the Marquis of Eddingham had just threatened to call in all my markers after finding out I wasn't good for them, He was set on ruining me. The scandal would have killed my Gran, who has always considered me the most wretched disappointment of her life. Her death would have made me rich but since all her money is tied up in land shares, it wouldn't have done me much good while I wasted away in debtor's prison."

"Don't tell me. The Dragon paid off your gambling debts? Ginny said with a shake of her head.

"Not exactly, but he did engage the marquis in a game of dice that went on till dawn." He laughed, "I have never seen a man so close to tears as the Marquis when he realized he had no chance of recouping his losses. And I can assure you they were quite staggering. As the sun began to rise, my new friend turned and handed me all his winnings. I turned and handed them back to the Marquis, who tore up my markers in a rage and threw them at us, saying he hoped we choked on them"

"The Dragon didn't keep any of the winnings for himself?

"Not so much as a shilling"

Ginny stopped chewing. "So why would such a benevolent soul choose to prey on villager with little more than the rags on their backs? Does he need the money to pay his own gambling debts?

Neville laughed loudly. "I should say not. Most would say he is one of the wealthiest men in-"he snapped his mouth shut, his mustache twitching guiltily. She could almost see his round guileless face withdrawing into its shell. He sprang to his feet and began to pack up the tray quickly backing away from her. "He warned me about you. He said you were very clever and I should guard my tongue around you."

"Surely you can't blame me for trying to learn something of the man who is holding me hostage? Please don't go?"

"Neville shook his finger at her. "He warned me about that too. Told me if you couldn't outwit me you would try to charm me with those dimples and pretty mouth of yours."

Ginny was accustomed to being blamed for her intelligence but no one had ever before accused her of being pretty or charming. "He said such a thing?"

Neville pulled paper, quill and a bottle of ink from his pocket. "He told me to leave these with you. Said you should make a list of all you require." He tossed the items on the bed and dove for the opening, leaving her alone once more.

Ginny recognized the stationary. It was the same creamy vellum, the Dragon used for his demands. She caressed the expensive sheaf between her fingers, lost in thought. Despite their recent encounter, she was no closer to discovering the true nature of the Dragon than she had been last night. If she could just recall what she had seen in that courtyard… But the memory continued to elude her. Leaving her with nothing but the conflicting truths she had learned since then. He was a gambler who gave away his winnings, a bully who took exquisite care not to pull her hair. A thief, who had her completely at his mercy, yet had made no attempt to steal her innocence.

Sinking down on the bed, she brushed her thumb across her lower lip, just as he had done earlier. What in heaven's name is wrong with her? She was beginning to feel witless. Instead of being outraged at his impertinence .she was longing for a mirror for the first time in her life. 'He said I had a pretty mouth' she thought in breathless wonder.

Shaking off the ridiculous thoughts she uncapped the ink and dipped the quill in. As she began to scribble she smiled wickedly. If the Dragon was intent on keeping her as his prisoner, then she would see to it that he would pay dearly for the pleasure of her company!

**A/N Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review. It is very gratifying to know you are enjoying the story.**


	8. Chapter 8

The Dragons Bride-Chapter 7

Ginevra's second day of captivity began with a jarring thump and a muffled oath. She sat up in bed, shaking her tousled hair out of her eyes just in time to see the panel easing shut behind someone. Her first instinct was to throw something at it, but as her eyes adjusted to the early mornings glow her anger turned to amazement. Tying the rumpled and stained sheet around herself with a careless knot, she clambered out of bed and looked around the chamber with disbelief. While she had slept her barren chamber had been transformed into a room fit for a princess. Against the wall under the window sat an elegantly draped table with a comfortable wingback chair for her to sit and partake of the feast that was laid out for her. Fried eggs, ham, French toast, a mixed platter of fruit. In the delicate china teapot she found more of the wonderfully rich chocolate. A feast that made yesterday's offering of rolls and chocolate look like paupers fare. She pinched off a taste of the toast but for the first time in her life, food did not hold her interest.

The hearth had been swept clean and laid with a tidy nest of logs. A pewter tinderbox lay on the mantle and all the tapers in the candelabrum had been replaced. The old curtain from yesterday was gone and in its place stood a freshly painted door. She carefully opened the door and her breath caught at what she beheld. Gone was the ancient privy and in its place was a very modern bathroom. A large picture window let the morning sun reflect off a vanity table, lined with every known toiletry item a lady would ever need along with a stack of clean white towels and washcloths. Lifting a bottle of perfume she gently removed the stopper and took a whiff, expecting some strong exotic scent she was pleasantly surprise that it was a very light delicate floral scent instead. Under the window sat a very large claw foot tub made of pink marble.

She turned on the faucet and splashed some water on her face, but it failed to waken her from the dream she was in. Returning to the bedroom that dream became even sweeter when she spied in the corner a stack of books as tall as she. They were old and their covers were tattered and frayed, but as far as she was concerned that only made the words they contained more precious. She sat down on the floor, drawing several books into her lap. She might have sat there all day, content to be lost in their pages, if a splash of color in the opposite corner hadn't caught her eye.

An ancient leather trunk sat against the wall, its lid propped open allowing its colorful treasures to spill forth. She slowly stood, the books tumbling from her lap. Ginny drifted towards it as if beckoned, her dreamlike state deepening with each step. Before she was aware she had moved she found herself kneeling like an unworthy supplicant at a decadent alter. Unable to resist the temptation the dug in and came away with two fists full of rich silk. One gown was pink and white striped, the other pale green. A blue taffeta gown followed. She was already holding the elegant sacque gown to her bosom when she awoke from her daze. She let the gown slip from her fingers. Such finery was never tailored for great girls like her. She imagined one of the willowy Watson girls squealing with delight at being given such a gown.

Ginny knew she ought to slam the lid shut but she couldn't resist slipping her hands into the plush softness of a sable muff. Such finery had probably been common to her mother in her youth. But Molly Weasley had never expressed one word of regret at giving up such luxuries to marry a brash young steward of a Highland chieftain, taking with her only a loyal maid named Nana. When Ginny's Papa would vow to give her a fortune of her own someday, he mama would throw her arms around his neck and tell him his love and her precious children were all the treasure she would ever need.

She blinked away a mist of tears. How had the Dragon come by such beautiful things? How many other towns had he plundered before setting his sights on ours? Was he deliberately mocking her by offering her such finery knowing she couldn't wear them? Becoming angry she began stuffing the dresses back into the trunk. She started to slam the lid closed but her gaze was caught by the Taffeta gown once again. She picked it up and held it to her once again. She would so love to wear it, but she had no desire to stretch the fabric or ruin the seams. Aiming to prove to herself once and for all that this was a cruel joke by _Him_, She sucked in her breath and raised the gown over her head. Closing her eyes in guilty she let it drop over her head, expecting it to become stuck at her bosom. She was amazed when it settled around her like a shimmering cloud. She couldn't believe how flawlessly it fit her…as if it had been made for her.

She swept her eyes around the chamber, torn between elation and despair. What peculiar magic was the Dragon working? She had only been beneath his spell for a day and he had already transformed her into a frivolous creature who scorned her books for gauze and ribbons. Without warning his smoky baritone flooded her mind._ Wouldn't it be more pleasant to think of yourself as a pampered pet?_

Perhaps that's exactly what he intended to make of her. She told herself to remember that no matter how luxurious, the tower was still her cell and she was still his prisoner. He could shower her with extravagant offerings, but none of them compared to the one gift her refused to give her- her freedom.

He came to her in the night.

Ginny woke with the certainty that she was not alone. He did not stir or betray himself with so much as a whisper of breath, yet his presence was as undeniable as the ever –present murmur of the sea below.

This night was not moonless like the night of their first meeting, and she could make out the faintest glimmer of his eyes in the ghostly light slipping through the grate. He was resting in the chair by the table, his long legs stretched out before him.

Ginny sat up; thankful she had worn the nightdress that had been in the trunk. She refused to show how much his presence unsettled her. "Good evening M'Lord Dragon. I would have thought you would have more pressing things to do than spy on me while I sleep. Like swooping down from the sky and carrying off innocent children in your talons."

"I never much cared for children. They generally turn out to be more trouble than they are worth"

"I was rather hoping you would decide the same of me"

"I have not yet determined what your worth may be, although I suspect it is far beyond the worth you place on yourself."

Ginny frowned, beset by the by the strange notion that the darkness allowed him to see her more clearly. To penetrate beneath her skin till she was as vulnerable to him as when she had been garbed in nothing but a sheet and her pride.

"So why have you come?" icy composure her only defense. "Did you think to bask in my appreciation for all the rare gifts you have bestowed on me?"

"Did they please you?"

"Do you care?"

She could almost hear the pensive frown in his voice. "Oddly enough I find that I do."

"The clothes are beautiful" she confessed stroking the satin ribbon at the neck of her nightdress. "But I can't help but wonder how you came by such a treasure trove of ladies finery."

"They once belonged to a woman I knew."

"A woman you loved?" Ginny asked, unable even as she spoke the words to fathom what compelled her to ask such an improper question.

"Deeply" he responded without hesitation.

Hoping to hide the curious pang his words evoked in her, she laughed. "I was surprised to find the gowns a perfect fit. Unlike most women of your acquaintance I have no need for panniers or bustles to hold the skirt up."

His voice was devoid of amusement. "Has it ever occurred to you that most women wear those torturous devices to make themselves look more like you? Softer, fuller…More inviting to a man's touch?"

Ginny couldn't have answered his question if she had wanted to. She could barely breathe. She could only be thankful that she wasn't still wearing the sheet, because it would surely have slipped from her limp hand. He continued, paying her distress no heed. "Truth be told, I might not have even noticed you had more meat on your bones than was strictly fashionable, if you didn't feel the need to point it out with damning regularity."

"When Ginny found her voice, it was a ragged whisper." I discovered long ago it spared others the trouble."

"How very convenient," he said, without mercy or pity. "I'm sure it also spared you from the trouble of risking your own feelings like the rest of us mortals are forced to do"

Ginny sat up straighter, hoping he couldn't see the gleam of tears in her eyes. "Have you forgotten sir? You are no mortal, you are a monster."

She was prepared for some witty retort. She was not prepared for him to come striding towards her out of the shadows, giving her fragmented glimpses of his face. He reached the bed plunging them both into shadow. And she felt the callused pad of his thumb stroking her cheek, caressing away the single tear that had reached there. "Has it occurred to you Miss Weasley, that we are both mythical creatures of a sort—I a Dragon and you a maiden? From the dawn of time, maidens have been endowed with miraculous powers. They can charm unicorns, Break curses…" Although she would have thought it impossible, his voice grew huskier."…Bring a man to his knees. But it remains to be seen whose is the greater power-yours or mine."

The last thing she expected was for him to lean down and lay his lips against hers. His kiss was dry, even chaste, but it set off a yearning deep in her soul. When he drew back, she wanted to grab his shirt and pull him back.

Not wanting him to slip away in the darkness she scrambled to her feet, using the bedpost to steady herself. "If my powers truly are so great sir, then such a kiss should have turned you from beast to man."

He paused at the panel, his face still wrapped in a veil or moonlight and shadow." Ah but you are forgetting that it was _I _who kissed _you._ To free me from my dark enchantment, _you_ would have to kiss _me." _

Leaving her with that bold challenge, he vanished into the night that had spawned him.

The Dragon stood on the highest point of the castle. His hand closed around the stone embrasure, all that separated him from the great abyss of nothingness below. Circumstance had driven him to become a nocturnal creature, but he had been a bloody fool to think he could ease his restlessness by watching his captive sleep.

She had breathed like a child deep and even, her jaw softened by the hint of a dimpled smile. Her fiery red hair spilled across the pillow like molten lava. She'd thrown one leg outside the sheet and her nightgown had ridden up displaying her smooth thigh. When she has first awoken he was afraid he would be unable to speak as his mouth had grown dry with desire.

He had known he should flee before the moonlight betrayed him, but he stayed-mocking her, taunting her, pushing her till those beautiful eyes had filled with tears. Risking both the moonlight and his pride he had gone to her.

But that bit of lunacy had been nothing compared with the madness that had compelled him to kiss her. To steal a taste-no more-Of the nectar he had denied himself for too long. It had been all he could do not to bear her back into the mattress and sink his tongue into the sweetness of her mouth.

He was already beginning to fear he had lied to her. Because her kiss, willingly offered, wouldn't change him from beast to man, but might instead unleash his years of longing and savage lust and brand him a beast forever.

**A/N - As always thanks to everyone that has taken the time to leave a review. I enjoy reading your comments and knowing what you think of the story. This will be the last update, probably until next weekend. RL is calling and I have to return to work this week. Take care all till next week.**


	9. Chapter 9

The Dragons Bride- Chapter 8

Ginevra lay awake long after the Dragon had left her. Her mind was in turmoil. Her heartbeat still pounded in her chest. Her lips burned still from his kiss. She rolled onto her side and tried to will herself to sleep but every time she closed her eyes, her mind went back to the encounter with him. Rolling onto her back she gave a disgusted sigh. There would be no sleeping for her this night. Throwing back the sheet she climbed from the bed. Moving to the mantle she struck a match and lit two of the candles there. Taking one candlestick in her hand she moved to the stack of books to find something to occupy her restless mind.

Kneeling next to the teetering stack she carefully read each spine for something that would keep her interest for a time. Choosing the thickest book from the stack, she rose and went towards the chair by the table. As she was sitting the candle on the table and preparing to take a seat and strong gust of wind blew through the grate in the wall, extinguishing both of her candles. She lay her book in the chair and went for another match. Just as she struck it against the tinderbox another gust of wing swept the chamber. Groaning in frustration she cast the spent match into the hearth. Turning to give the window a glare, she was caught by the sight of the full moon glowing outside the window. She recalled in her childhood how her mother and she would gaze at the moon and make wishes. The memory made her smile as she remembered her mother's girlish laugh, when it was just the two ladies of the house spending time alone. The pain of the loss of her dear mother had never lessened, even after all these years. What she would give to have her here now.

Wanting to see the moon more clearly she moved the chair closer to the window and climbed into the seat. The cool salty sea air blew onto her face and swept her hair out behind her. It made her recall him stroking her hair, and his kiss. What was she to do about M'lord Dragon and his outrageous dare? If that one small kiss had disturbed her this much, she didn't dare risk another. Her heart and soul couldn't take the risk. She was honest enough with herself to admit that she would love to kiss him again, but she knew she mustn't. The ultimate rejection she knew would come would be more than she could withstand. Leaning her head dejectedly against the window grate she jumped in surprise when she felt the grate move. Thinking her tired mind had caused her to imagine the movement she grabbed a bar with one hand and pulled the grate slightly. It moved again! Grabbing with both hands this time she gave it a shake. It was very loose and Ginny quickly realized that this could be her way out of her prison. She strained on the tips of her toes to see what was under her window but she was just too short to reach. Jumping from the chair, she dashed to the pile of books, grabbing an armful of the largest available; she stacked them in the chair like a ladder. Now being raised to her shoulders at the window she glanced down and saw a walkway ran under the window that must circle the tower.

Her plan of escape was quickly forming in her mind. If she could get the grate our, then she could crawl through the window and lower herself onto the walkway. From there it should be no problem to find a stair case to the ground and then she could run for home, never to return to this place again.

Without giving herself time for second thoughts she rushed to the trunk and retrieved the leather slippers she had found at the bottom. Slipping them onto her feet she quickly climbed her book ladder. Grasping the grate in a white knuckled hold, she tugged the grate towards her. It gave about half an inch. She shoved it back the other direction and was pleased when the plaster gave a sharp crack. Taking hold again she tugged towards herself again, the grate moved a bit more and large piece of plaster came loose and dropped onto the floor with a sharp clunk. She let go for a moment to gather her strength. Taking a deep breath she pulled with all her might. The grate shuddered and moved a bit, another piece of plaster fell to the floor. Sweat was beginning to collect on her brow from the exertion but she did not stop to wipe it off. She put her shoulder against the grate and shoved again moving the grate several inches this time, the plaster on the other side of the moldings broke free and fell to the walkway below. With desperation mounting in her, she grabbed the bars one more time. Bracing her legs against the back of the chair for leverage, she gave one mighty tug…and the grate broke free into her hands. She had to struggle to keep hold of it as it was very heavy. She carefully lowered it to the floor, propping it next to the chair.

Taking a moment to catch her breath and wipe her brow she glanced around her prison one last time. It truly was the nicest bedroom she had ever had the privilege to reside in, but she would not miss it. "Farewell M'Lord Dragon" she whispered before she turned and pulled herself through the window. It was a tight fit but with some twisting she was able to pull herself out. While she was twisting herself around her foot accidently kicked over her book ladder. The weight of the books sent the leaning grate crashing to the floor with a clang loud enough to wake the dead. Ginny froze momentarily but then her sense of survival kicked in and she swung herself quickly out the window and down to the walkway. It was a longer drop than it had appeared from the window and she stumbled and cried out as she fell to her knees. Rising as quickly as she could she pressed her back against the wall and moved to her right. Keeping to the shadows she made her way to where she believed the stairs to be. What seemed to take hours was only a minute until she reached the stairs. When the moonlight reflected off the stone, her breath caught in her throat in fear. A good portion of the stairs had been heavily damaged in the attack years ago, and walking down would be treacherous in the dark. She knew she had to take the risk or remain a hostage indefinitely, so clinging to what was left of the bannister she began down, dodging openings as best she could holding her breath as each loose piece of stone went skittering down ahead of her.

After what seemed an eternity, she finally reached the ground. She found herself back in the same courtyard where this misguided adventure had begun…was it only two nights ago? She found it hard to believe her captivity had only lasted two nights. She wondered if Papa had even realized she had been missing. Hopefully Nana had taken pity on him and not let him starve while she was gone. 'I will soon see.' She thought as she began to hurry towards the open rusted gates.

Just as she prepared to step through the gates, a rustling sound came from the hedge in the shadows next to the opening to the grounds. Stopping short she looked in terror as the hedge began to part. Something was coming out of the center of the bush. It was too dark in the shade of the wall to see clearly but she could make out a very large dark shape. She took several steps back in fright as the shape came forward until it finally stepped into a shaft of light at the base of the wall.

A huge black dog stood staring at her. Her heart stopped in her chest. She knew this dog. It was _His _dog. It was the_ ghost of His Dog!_ Ginny gave a sharp laugh in disbelief at what she was seeing. Everyone knew the dog had been killed in the attack. It was told he had died protecting _Him._ The townsfolk had been right all along. There really was a ghost at the castle!

The apparition of the dog sat looking at her, with head tilted to the side as if wondering what she was doing there. "It's alright boy, I am just leaving" She whispered. "I will not disturb your rest any longer." She moved to walk around the spirit but it moved in front of her. She stepped to the other side and it followed again. Ginny was becoming agitated. Surely she could get around a dead dog! She decided she would have to trick him. When she moved again she took several steps to the left. When he moved to follow her, she noticed something strange. He was limping. She paused a second to wonder why a ghost dog would have a limp, but when he settled in front of her again, she darted to the right and ran as fast as she could out the gate. She could hear it following her but she ran as if the hounds of hell were after her, which in fact one was.

She didn't stop running until she reached the path to the village. As she made the turn at the top of the cliff, she heard the poor dead dog give the most haunting howl she had ever dreamed to hear. "The poor dead creature" she murmured to herself, "still grieving for his master, just like all of us." Shaking her head at her fancy, she walked faster. Who would have ever imagined that she, Ginevra Weasley, Would ever believe in a Ghost? Be it dog or otherwise. She had been made a believer. She would admit, there is such a thing as ghosts.

She had only taken a few steps down the cliff side path when the dogs howl was answered. Her blood ran cold when she heard…

The terrible roar of an enraged Dragon.

**A/N -Hello my faithful readers. I hope all who were with me before have found their way back. I made a mistake while updating this story and the end result, after pulling my hair out for several hours trying to fix the problem, was to delete the story and re upload with the update included. So if anyone is confused this is still the same story. I know I also told you I wouldn't be updating till the weekend. But this chapter flowed so well I couldn't wait to bring it to you.**

**Also a reminder, as stated in Chapter 1 this story is a compilation of several of my favorite novels, that I was curious as how they would work in the HP verse. Anything you may recognize is not mine; I'm just playing with it for a bit.**

**Hope you enjoy the story!**


	10. Chapter 10

The Dragons Bride-Chapter 9

The Dragon had retired to his dungeon rooms after several hours of walking the grounds in the damp night air. He was chilled to the bone and more weary than he could ever remember being in his time. All he wanted was a strong drink, and to rest his tired mind. Arriving in his room he once again found his chair already taken, by a sleeping Neville. A half empty decanter of whiskey sat on the table next to him. Filling a glass to the rim he downed the liquor in one go. The whiskey burned as it went down his throat and he began to feel warmer.

Since his chair was taken he retired to his make shift bedroom. He shrugged off his damp clothes and climbed into his lonely bed. He had just slipped into a light doze when he was startled awake by a loud clattering noise. Rising onto his elbow, he listened carefully and heard Neville muttering in the other room. Attributing the noise to his friends drunk ramblings, he turned over and settled under his warm covers. His mind drifted back to earlier and to the feel of her lips. He could still feel her skin, still smell her hair. He drifted off into a dream of the two of them walking and laughing in the sunshine. They were strolling in a flower covered meadow, and she was smiling at him. All at once the dream changed and she cried out in pain. Ginevra! He reached for her but she disappeared before his eyes.

He jerked awake. Something was wrong, he could feel it. Jumping out of bed he quickly grabbed his pants from where he had discarded them and ran up the stairs. Not noticing anything in his haste to reach her, he made the turn at the landing and ran straight into a bleary eyed Neville and knocked him to the ground. Catching him by the arm he quickly hauled him to his feet and moving him out of his way at the same time as he rushed away. He heard Neville call out to him but He didn't stop to explain or excuse himself as he made for the circular steps to the tower. His mind in frenzy as to what could be wrong. He imagined her hurting herself to get away from him after his behavior earlier. The memories of terrible situations he had witnessed before of prisoners who took their own lives instead of remaining locked away made him quicken his steps even more. He could hear panting behind him and knew his friend was following. he reached her hidden panel and without hesitating shoved it open, just as Neville gasped out "Harry...your face! " but it was too late, he had already stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was that the room was deadly silent. He called out urgently "Miss Weasley?" there was no reply. He tried listening for her breathing but could only hear the sea crashing below. Fearing the worst and not caring for his secrets, he waved his hand and lit every candle in the room. When the tapers flared he frantically searched the room for her Even looking under the bed, in case she was hiding there. Not finding her he turned to her bath chamber. She could have fallen in the tub and was drowning at this moment. He wrenched the door off the brand new hinges to get in the room. She wasn't there. His panic was turning to confusion. 'Where the hell is she?'

As he walked back into the bedroom, Neville came through the panel gasping for air. Seeing the look on his friends face, he answered the unasked question. "She isn't here! How the bloody hell did she get out?" Neville glanced confusedly around the room and spied the chair at the window. Being still out of breath all he could do was point.

The Dragon turned to see what he was pointing to, hoping to see her hiding in the corner. When he saw the book ladder and the open window, his panic immediately turned to anger. He walked to the window and stepped into the chair. Looking out he half hoped to find her lying on the ledge below. Maliciously he wished she had hurt herself when she jumped. Stepping down from the chair he turned to Neville. "It's all over my friend. The damn woman will be singing to the town in a few minutes. We should prepare to leave this cursed place at once, and this time I will never return. "He walked angrily towards the open panel.

As he stepped through the opening, a mournful howl from his lifelong companion was heard. The dragon stopped dead in his tracks. Snuffles has her! She hasn't gotten away. He silently swore to himself as he turned and ran towards the window he would make sure she never did.

With the strength of ten elephants he grabbed the edge of the window and ripped the wall in half. Dashing through the opening he took a flying leap and in the blink of an eye he was gone. In his place was a huge midnight black winged dragon. With one powerful thrust of his wings and a deafening roar, he was air born and flying fast towards the castle gates. He flew over the cliff and down the pathway. His Dragon eyes spotted her immediately running towards the village. His rage burned bright in his eyes. He swooped down and grabbed her quickly in his long, sharp talons. He laughed inwardly when she gave a terrified scream and he soared skyward with her tight in his grasp. His anger was making steam rise steadily from his large nostrils and he knew he needed to release some of the pressure or he might accidentally hurt her severely. He flew fast and high towards the open fields outside the village. He settled in a large potato field, He could feel his restraint slipping. With another mighty roar he opened his fierce jaws and let loose a jet of flames one hundred feet long. He raked the entire field. It was completely engulfed in flames and they were spreading quickly toward the barn at the other end of the pasture. With all his might he fought to rein in his rage and to shut down the flame. The rage was winning. The barn went up like a torch in a matter of moments. Closing his eyes and Breathing deeply he called on whatever gods there be to help him stop. For a moment he feared he wouldn't be able to master the beast this time. It was the whimpers coming from his tightly clenched dragons' fist that finally broke through the mist covering his mind. He managed to calm enough to stop himself from doing any more damage. He opened his eyes and looked at the destruction he had caused because he had lost control. He felt a sharp sting of anguish rush over him.

As he watched the barn burning, he felt his passenger begin to shift in his grasp, sharply reminding him of why everything that had just happened had come to be. He looked down at her and gave a snort but she refused to look at him. He raised his claw and shook her. She remained deadly silent.

With a quick thrust of his wings they were once again air born, Heading east he flew out over the gloriously turbulent sea. The wind in his face helped to finally calm him completely. He dearly loved to fly. The feel of the cool spray of the waves felt heavenly against his hot thick scales. Deciding his guest needed some cooling off as well, and some punishment, he sank lower over the water and dipped her … a couple of times. Turning towards land he made a wide sweep of the valley, casting his shadow over the whole village. The angel of doom was certainly over them tonight.

Flying back up the cliff face he circled the castle several times before lightly touching down in the open courtyard. He released his captive roughly and watched with a bit of satisfaction as she stumbled and fell on her backside. Sitting in the dirt with her head downcast, soaking wet. She really was a pitiful sight. Unfortunately for her, tonight he had no pity for her. She had her eyes tightly shut and he realized that she was mumbling to herself. She was trying to convince herself she was imagining him. He was in no mood to be denied tonight. He bent his head down and lightly pressed his snout against her head enough to make her jump, but she still refused to look at him. His patience reached its end and he growled low in his throat. Her head shot up and her eyes opened wide. If he could have he would have smiled at the look of disbelief and then terror that crossed her lovely face…just before she fainted dead away.

Seeing she was unconscious he let himself shift back to his normal form. Out of the shadows limped a man dressed all in black, smoking a pipe. He walked up and took his place next to the Dragon, looking down at the swooning girl.

"Why did you bring this damned woman here to torture me old man?" the Dragon snarled.

"You needed some excitement in your life" the man answered with a barking laugh. "Admit it Pup, She makes you feel…"

"Feel what? Furious, frustrated, dangerous...

"Alive!" the man said before walking back into the shadows.

The Dragon stood there in silence for several minutes, looking at her prone body.

"Do you believe in dragons now Miss Weasley?" He whispered.

A/N - Here is part two of 'The Escape'. I hope you enjoy it. Don't be too harsh with The Dragon; remember he is only a man.

Thanks as always to everyone who has taken the time to leave a review. I enjoy hearing what you think.


	11. Chapter 11

The Dragons Bride- chapter 11

When Ginevra awoke in her comfortable bed the next morning it was easy to believe the events of last night was all a bad dream. She was safe and warm in her room. Her books were stacked as she liked them. Her dress for the day was hanging where she had placed it the night before. Upon rising from the bed she found her breakfast on the table waiting for her, just like the past two mornings. When her tummy grumbled she made her way to the tray to see what delicacies M'lord Dragon had provided for breakfast this morning. A tender pork steak and fried potatoes today, along with a pot of the wonderful spiced English tea Mr. Longbottom had introduced her to yesterday. Pouring some tea into the dainty cup provided she took a deep breath and breathed in the rich spice. Yes, it was very comfy in her cell today. She took a satisfied sip and moved to have a seat in her chair, which for some reason was moved over by the window. Taking a step towards the chair she raised her face towards the grate, hoping to catch a cool breeze of the morning on her face.

She froze in shock when her eyes beheld the window. There was a newly patched but very jagged rip down the wall. As if someone had ripped a piece of parchment down the center. Or a dragon had ripped a stone wall in half. The Grate had also been encased in a thick layer of fresh mortar. It had not been a dream. The cup slipped from her nerveless hand and crashed to the floor. She was too lost in her panic to notice. Her breathing was becoming shallow and she was trembling from head to foot. Her knees gave way and she crashed to the floor unable to save herself or move. Deep terrified sobs came tumbling from her lips as her mind kept repeating, 'Heaven help me! It wasn't a dream"

When Neville arrived a short time later to retrieve her breakfast tray, he found her curled in upon herself as a baby does. When he spoke to her she was unresponsive. Her face white as milk and her eyes wide with fear. Her whole body was shaking as if from a hard chill. He took the sheet from the bed and wrapped it gently around her hoping to warm her. Speaking in a soft, soothing voice her began to reassure her. "It's alright luv. Your safe and nothing is going to harm you. Just try to relax and breathe normally. I am here and you are fine" He told her repeatedly as he gently rubbed her back. She didn't seem to hear him, lost in her fright as images of her escape and recapture played in her mind's eye. Her eyes locked on the ripped and repaired window.

Neville felt he had been kneeling by her for hours. He was beginning to despair as he didn't seem to be getting through to her. He decided he needed to go for help. He needed to get harry he would know what to do. He released the hand he had been rubbing and started to rise to his feet when suddenly she grabbed his hand in a tight grip.

She had turned her face to look at him and she was trying to speak but nothing was coming out. He leaned closer to her and said softly. "What is it dear?"

"He is a Dragon" She whispered.

Neville sighed and sat down on the floor still holding her hand. Yes My dear, He is." He answered her with a small nod. "But he is completely harmless. He would not hurt a flea. He most certainly would never harm you. "He rushed to assure her." I know he seemed a bit harsh last evening but he was only concerned with returning you safe and sound, if a bit damp "He said with a small chuckle.

The life and fire suddenly returned to Ginny's face. She sat up perfectly straight and asked in a frosty tone "A bit damp? The overgrown ugly scaly bastard tried to drown me! He tried to crush me in his claw and he almost set me, as well as the whole village on fire! Meant me no harm? If he meant me no harm, he should have just allowed me to go home! "She shouted.

Neville rose slowly to his feet and backed away from her. He was no hand at dealing with irate females. That was Harry's area of expertise He made one feeble attempt to reason with her while she raged. "Now my dear, Be reasonable. I know this situation is not easy on you but he has done all he can to insure your comfort and pleasure. He has done his best to fulfill your every request. "

Ginny drew in a shaky breath trying to calm herself down. She looked at Neville with open malice and anger as he mopped his brow with his handkerchief.

"Mr. Longbottom, Would you be so kind as to make one last request of your Friend for me?" She asked in a sweet mocking tone.

Neville thinking she was coming round quickly agreed. "Of course my dear, and I'm sure he will be only too glad to grant you anything you wish, within reason of course."  
"Of course. Then will you kindly ask him .To go straight to hell!"

For the next few days after Ginny's tirade, the Dragon was nowhere to be found. Yet his presence was as inescapable as the wind tossed sea. She would awaken from a dream tossed sleep and search the shadows for him only to find herself alone. Although Neville continued to bring her delicious meals prepared from the village's finest offerings, she often found herself without appetite, pushing the food from one side of her plate to the other.

Neville never mentioned him but almost every day he brought her another gift from his treasure trove-a gilt hairbrush inlaid with mother of pearl, precious first edition novels in fine calfskin covers, fine oil paints with several canvases for her to create on.

On the third morning of her forced solitude, Neville came through the panel carrying a large sheet wrapped burden. Ginny jumped up from her chair unable to disguise her childlike anticipation of what the gift may be. All that was visible of the new treasure was a pair of golden dragon's talons clutching golden balls. The sight of the talons made her shiver and her breath catch. Neville rested it against the wall with a grunt of relief. He drew a folded slip of stationery from his pocket and handed it to her.

Neville looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to read the note. Her pride would not let her give them the satisfaction. She crumbled the note into a ball and threw it into the hearth. Neville looked at her disappointedly and prepared to unveil her gift but Ginny stopped him with a sharp cry of "No!"

He made no comment and tactfully withdrew, leaving her alone again.

Late that evening, she sat attempting to read, but her mind wouldn't settle enough to let her. She threw the book down in disgust. She was so confused. She couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep. She couldn't read. If it wasn't so absurd she would have said she was suffering from lovesickness. But how could she be falling in love with a man whose face she had never seen. A man who denied her freedom yet showered her with endless gifts. She must not forget, no matter what enticements he sent her way that he was a monster! A real live fire breathing dragon with claws that would burn them alive without mercy if he was angered. A man whose kisses set her on fire from her very soul and made her yearn for his touch. She jumped up from the chair and started to pace the chamber as her fury began to rise. She was furious with her faceless captor but she was even more furious with herself for falling under his spell. She looked around the tower. Thanks to her hosts generosity she was not lacking in objects with which to bash him over the head the next time he came swaggering through her door. But he seemed to be avoiding her company as studiously as he once sought it. Her gaze fell on her full supper plate. So he thought he could woo her favor with expensive gifts and sweet words did he? It was time M'Lord Dragon learned Ginny Weasley was made of sterner stuff.

Neville marched into the ante chamber with the supper tray. The Dragon continued to write in the ledger book before him. "I told you I wasn't hungry Nev" he said without looking up. Neville sat the tray on the open book. "Apparently you're not the only one who isn't hungry."

The Dragon looked at the full tray before shifting his gaze to Neville. "Is she ill?"

"She doesn't appear to be, but this is the sixth meal she has refused."

"Two days with no food. What kind of game is she playing?"

"A dangerous one if you ask me. She is very pale and unsteady on her feet. She would have fallen earlier if I hadn't caught her" Neville Replied.

The Dragon shook his head. Lack of sleep had put him in a horrible temper. His first instinct was to grab the tray go up there and force her to eat, even if he had to force feed her every bite.

Deciding that was his second instinct as well he stood and reached for the tray. Neville stayed him with the words. "The sun is just setting; it's not dark enough yet!"

Swearing the Dragon sank back into his chair. He had chosen the role of nocturnal predator and now must wait for dark to confront his quarry.

"Where are you going?" he snarled to Neville retreating back.

"Off to terrorize the villagers. Thought I would get an early start tonight. I must say you setting the field on fire has set them on edge much more efficiently than my pipe playing and ghost stories. They seem ready to tear each other apart. Shouldn't be long before they are begging to hand over the traitor and the gold now!"

"Good! The sooner we can be away from this damned place the better! I can't wait to leave it all behind."

Neville beamed an angelic smile at him as he backed out the door. "Are you sure you want to leave it all behind?"

The Dragon did not notice his friend was already gone when he answered in an agonized voice "No."


	12. Chapter 12

The Dragons Bride-Chapter 12

Even though Ginny had been expecting the Dragon, she still jumped in fright when the panel door went crashing against the far wall. She huddled against the headboard, her heart pounding in her throat, though she honestly couldn't say it was entirely out of fear. The corner of the room as usual was bathing in darkness, so all she could make out was a shadowy figure moving across the room. The sharp rasp of his breath reminding her that if he should change into his dragon self, fire would shoot out of his nostrils and singe all the hair from her head.

He strode over to rest something on the table and turned to face her. His silent stare and soft breathing the only sound in the room. He remained perfectly still and just watched her as she stared right back at him. She hoped he could see her glare of defiance in the dark. For several long minutes they engaged in a silent staring contest. Ginny could feel her frustration rising. As much as she wanted to ignore the pull to hear his smoky voice once again, she dearly wanted to win this battle of wills. After what seemed hours her nerves couldn't take any more. She should have known he would force her to break the tense silence.

"Good Evening M'Lord Dragon. I am surprised to see you. Have you run out of field to burn? To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"Your own foolishness. Neville tells me you haven't eaten in two days."

She gave an elegant shrug, "You need not concern yourself sir. As you can see it will take more than a few missed meals for me to waste away"

He strode towards the bed, Ginny believed herself beyond cowering in front of him. She was wrong.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting him to do, but it certainly wasn't him scooping her into his arms as if she were a small child and carrying her to the table. He sank into the chair, cradling her in his lap.

"Open your mouth" he commanded ,his firm grip making squirming impossible.

Ginny's first muddled thought was that maybe he intended to kiss her much more thoroughly than before she licked her lips in anticipation. It wasn't his mouth however that touched her lips but the cool smooth bowl of a spoon.

"Open wide and have a taste won't you" he murmured a husky note of pleading in his voice.

Ginny couldn't ever remember being encouraged to eat. She had always been asked to leave some for the others or have Nana swat her hand if she went for seconds. The aroma of spices reminded her how hungry she was and it broke her heart to resist him. But resist she must.

"No thank you" she muttered between clenched teeth, shaking her head like a two year old.

They were both only too aware that he possessed the strength to force that spoon down her throat if he so desired. But it turned out that wasn't what he desired at all. The spoon was taken away… And replaced by his warm breath at the corner of her mouth.

That gentle wisp of breath was followed by the faintest graze of his lips on hers. Her lips seemed to soften of their on volition and when he took advantage of that softness by sliding his tongue between them she moaned at the shock of it.

Before she could clear her dazed mind, he had replaced his tongue with the spoon and poured a mouthful of delicious warmth down her throat. She sputtered but he quickly covered her mouth with his own again, forcing her to swallow the concoction. The pudding was sweet, but not nearly as sweet as the teasing swirl of his tongue against hers.

She shoved against his chest forcing him to break the kiss but when she opened her mouth to protest he simply poured another mouthful of pudding in and pressed his lips back to hers.

Before he could lift the spoon again Ginny managed to gasp out. "If you pour anymore of that in my mouth I will not hesitate to spit it in your face"

"You wouldn't want to hurt Neville feelings would you? He considers himself quite the chef and he worked hard to prepare this for you"

"He is a very fine chef, but you sir, are a miserable bully!"

"Only when I am dealing with a stubborn child"

Ginny struggled to escape his embrace, her temper flaring. "Which am I to be M'Lord Dragon- a pampered pet or a stubborn child? Or does that all depend on how obedient a slave I am to your whims"

His arms tightened around her. "You know nothing of my whims. If you did you'd stop squirming in this maddening manner"

She did just that. The darkness that surrounded them seemed to heighten her every sense. It magnified his steady breathing and the shudder of his heartbeat beneath her palm. The crisp hairs that spilled from the open neck of his shirt tickled her fingertips. Every breath she took was rich with the scent of him. But it was the rigid warmth of his lap under her bottom that sent panic shooting through her.

"Now, are you going to eat or do I have to kiss you again "His voice deadly serious, his warm breath on her cheek warning her he had every intention of making good on his threat.

"I'll eat" she said opening her mouth.

"You certainly know how to deflate a man's opinion of his charms" he said ruefully as her fed her more pudding.

Ginny's knowledge of a male anatomy may be limited to what she had overheard, but as far as she could tell his charms showed no sign of deflating. She swallowed. "Most men don't feel compelled to offer their kisses as punishment."

"I've known ladies in the past who considered them a reward"

"Were you holding them captive at the time or is that a recent diversion for you?"

"I can promise, none of them were as diverting as you" he used the spoon to dap a drop of pudding off her lip.

It made her wild to be so near to him, yet unable to make out more than a shadowy mask of his features. It should have been unbearable to be cradled on a strangers lap. Desperate to distract from their mingled breath and her pounding heart she blurted out. "I still can't fathom why a man of your obvious resources would seek to steal from those who have so little."

She felt him stiffen. "Perhaps I don't consider it stealing. Perhaps I consider it relieving them of something that was never rightfully theirs in the first place."

"If you're talking about the thousand pounds, it doesn't exist. it never did!"

That infuriating tone of amusement returned to his voice. "Why should I believe you Miss Weasley? A short time ago you didn't believe in dragons. Perhaps I don't believe in maidens are you willing to prove they exist?"

She was shocked silent at his provocative challenge

He captured a tendril of her crimson hair and twined it round his finger, his voice becoming a husky whisper. "Having you here…like this…Do you know what it does to a man like me?"

"Makes your legs go numb" she ventured.

He was silent for a long moment, and then a harsh bark of laughter escaped him. Still laughing he gathered her up and strode to the bed. He tossed her onto the bed. She scrambled to the head of the bed, believing for a breathless minute he planned to join her. Instead he sank down on a knee beside her and pinned her between his arms

"Eat Ginny" He commanded lowering his face towards hers, "If you don't eat every bite on that tray, I'm coming back and then you will be sorry you didn't choose my kisses instead"

A moment later, he was gone, leaving Ginny very sorry.

**A/N Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. I am so glad you are enjoying this story. This will be the last update before next weekend.**

**For those who have asked, This Harry is AU. I do not see him resembling the book Harry very much. This Harry has lived a very different life. Hopefully you will find my Harry's life interesting.**


	13. Chapter 13

The Dragons Bride-Chapter 13

Neville crept through the highland night growing ever closer to the quiet town, being careful to keep in the shadows, well hidden from the light of the rising moon and taking care to not make any more noise than he could, he felt his pulse quicken with excitement. He thought back over the last two years since his friend had saved him from his own destruction in that gaming hall and brought him into this new life he had been enjoying. He never much cared for danger but he thrived on drama. It was the unending drama of this scheme that made it so much fun for him. He scanned the thick grasses for a good place to light the smoke pot that he had tucked beneath his arm. Its bright flare and billowing smoke would rouse the villagers from their beds, making them think the Dragon had made another strike against them.

Therein lay the beauty of their scheme. The people of Hogsmeade were so superstitious and guilt ridden that he only had to plant the seeds of fear in their fertile imaginations to keep them thinking some terrible supernatural force was at work in their lives. Then if the baby cried from colic or the milk soured, it was all the Dragons doing. If the villagers were so foolish as to mistake sulfur for fire and brimstone of dragon's breath, they deserved their sleepless nights. He struck a flint against tinder and lit the smokers fuse.

As the smoke began to slowly rise, he straightened and quickly moved to the corpse of trees so he could place the newest letter for the townsfolk to find. Going to the center tree he pulled the note from his pocket and placed it in the usual spot, shoving an arrow into place to hold it there till discovered. Stepping back to admire his handy work he let out small chuckle. "It's almost too easy" he thought. He turned to make his way to his favorite hiding place where he could watch the fun. He was confronted with a surprising sight. He had been caught at his mischief.

She faced him in the moonlight, a fey wood sprite with creamy white skin and a tumble of dark curls. Her pale dress was flowing behind her in the breeze making her look like an angry avenging angel. She put her hands on her hips and eyed him boldly. She opened her rosebud mouth and said. "I have never seen you in town before and I know everyone who lives there"

Neville had to clear his throat before replying "I was afraid you were going to say that"

Her eyes widened in fear, "I know who you are," she gasped, "You're the Dragon!" as she backed away from him.

Neville was about to deny it, but the glow of awe he saw in the girls eyes stopped him. Never in his life had a woman looked at him like that. Before he knew what he was going to do he sucked in his stomach, puffed out his chest and said, "Yes Miss, I am the Dragon."

He wouldn't have been surprised if she had fled the meadow screaming or recoiled in disgust to find the dreaded dragon was a paunchy Englishman. But what she did instead was hurl herself into his arms.

"You!" she shrieked as she pummeled his chest with her fists. "You are the wretched beast that ate my friend!"

Desperate to silence her before she woke the entire village, he dragged her tight to his chest and clamped a hand over her mouth. "I didn't eat your friend" he hissed in her ear. "She is alive and well and staying as my guest at the castle".

The girl shook her head trying to get away from his hand. "I can prove she is alright, she told me about her friends, and you must be Kitty? You live in the village with your mother and two sisters?" As he frantically searched his memory for any other information he had on her, he felt her small sharp teeth connect with his palm hard enough to draw blood. He jerked his hand away.

Kitty ceased to struggle, but continued to glare up at him. She drew a deep breath which caused her warm bosom to press tightly to his chest. He tried to ignore that fact being a gentleman. She took a small step back and he immediately missed the warmth. Her hands clenched his shirt front as she asked "Is it true? Is Ginny alive?

He gently rubbed her hands as he said "She is alive and well. She is my guest and she has beautiful clothes to wear, anything she wishes to eat and all the books she cares to read."

A sharp shaft of jealousy shot through Kitty. "Who would have thought that Ginny would end up your mistress instead of your meal, "she said sultrily?

"I can assure you she has been neither" He said hastily stepping away from her. "I haven't compromised your friend; her virtue is as intact as the night she was left at the castle." Remembering the fiery passion he had witnessed in the Dragon just this evening he wasn't sure how much longer that claim would be true.

Kitty sighed "That's a pity. If ever a girl was in need of a thorough compromising it's our Ginny"

Shocked by her frankness Neville turned away to hide his blush.

"So you're the Dragon" She looked him up and down with brazen regard, making him regret he hadn't sucked in his stomach again. "Is it true you can change from man to dragon at will?"

"Only on Tuesdays and the second Sunday of the month."

As she drew nearer he backed away, unnerved by the predatory gleam in her eye. "Is it true you have developed a taste for human flesh?'

Neville jerked his gaze guiltily from her mouth as he had been wondering what her lips would taste like at that moment.

"I honestly don't think I would fancy it. Underdone roast beef gives me indigestion." His back came up against a tree making further retreat impossible.

She leaned towards him. My Mother says you are possessed with a fierce hunger to mate with one of the village girls"

He was but he hadn't known it till this moment. His gaze flicked back to her lips. He had done the Dragons reputation enough harm for one night.

"Far be it from me to cast aspersions on your mother" he murmured leaning in and closing his eyes to steal a kiss.

When his lips met only air, he opened his eyes to find Kitty scampering away from him. "Where are you going?" he cried out.

She spun around. "I have to tell my sisters that Ginny is alive and I have met the Dragon. Do you know how jealous they will be?"

Envisioning the wrath of the real Dragon when he discovered Neville's foolishness, he cast about in desperation for a way to stop her. "Wouldn't it be better to have a secret that a story? A secret just between the two of us?

She coked her head to the side, plainly intrigued by the idea.

"Just think Kitty, You are the only one who knows my true identity. Can I coax you into keeping that secret just a little while longer?"

She poked her toe at the ground, a petulant cast to her lips. "Ginny always says I can't keep a secret. She says I blather too much."

Neville smiled. "A friend once said the same about me. Perhaps you have never had one worthy of keeping? Please, promise me you won't tell?"

She slanted him a provocative look. "I might be able to do it, if you will make me a promise of your own."

Neville swallowed, hoping she wasn't about to ask him to show her his wings or to breath fire. He desperately hoped she didn't ask for him to bring Ginny to her. "What can I do for you?'

"Meet me" She boldly demanded," Meet me, here tomorrow after the moon rises."

Neville slowly nodded; convinced he was getting the better end of this bargain. "Until then Dear Lady, you must remember you hold my fate in your gentle hands" He brought one of those hands to his lips, a gesture he'd watched the Dragon use to great effect on a number of women.

When she tipped her head back, her eyes drifted closed and her lips parted in invitation he knew it had worked for him as well. Shaking his head ruefully he leaned down and brushed her brow with a chaste kiss.

When Kitty opened her eyes, she was alone in the meadow. She gazed up at the moon completely bewildered by the Dragon .Most of the boys of her acquaintance would have had their hands up her skirt, yet this Dragon hadn't even stuck his tongue in her mouth. He had kissed her hand and called her a lady.

Yes, she would keep his secret or die trying, she swore.

As Kitty made her way home later, the village men were awake and gathered in front of the pub. The dragons smoke had awakened them as always and his new message had been found. She gathered close to hear what he had written, wishing she had asked him when she was with him.

Most of the Weasley brothers were there, as well as the other men. Old Abe had the note and was reading off a seemingly endless list of supplies. The men were groaning more with each item mentioned.

"This damn dragon is eating all our food while our children go hungry" Albert Watson complained, when the list was complete. "What am I supposed to feed my family with if I give it all to the monster? "

"All my best whiskey, he is guzzling and leaving not a drop for selling" tom added.

"I say we let the damn lizard starve" someone else threw in.

The grumbling was getting louder and angrier by the moment. Old Abe looked at them as if they had all lost their senses

"And what do you think he will do to us if we do not obey his demands?" Abe asked.

Ron Weasley, who was without a doubt the meanest, vilest man in town, had been sitting on the railing of the fence playing with his knife. He had always treated every female in town like they were harlots put there for his pleasure. There was not an unmarried girl in town he had not tried to bed at some point. He had always treated his only sister with such contempt that the townsfolk could not help but wonder what his problem with her could be. Everyone in town knew Ginny to be a sweet and kind girl. But her own brother treated her worse than some treated their dogs.

He spoke up when Abe quieted.

"He wouldn't be able to do anything to us if he were dead!"

Kitty took a deep breath and tried to be still.

"What are you saying man? "Old Abe asked him in disbelief.

"I'm saying we put an end to this once and for all. Before he decides he wants to eat someone else's sister. We need to kill us a dragon!"

**A/N - Thanks to all who have taken the time to review. Hello to all the new followers who have joined us. I hope you are enjoying the story.**

**This chapter is to answer the question of what is happening in town. As you can read, trouble is brewing.**

**More with the Dragon and Ginny next time.**


	14. Chapter 14

The Dragons Bride-Chapter 14

The next day dawned with an oppressive heaviness. Ginny dutifully ate every bite of her meals beneath Neville's watchful eye, although the food tasted like sawdust in her mouth. She wasn't sure her poor heart could stand another of the Dragons midnight visit's.

Throughout the long day even Neville was distracted. Instead of chattering as he usually did, he spent most of the day looking longingly at the door, as if he was the prisoner and not she. After she choked down her dinner Ginny sent him away, thinking she would rather retire early than endure his pained attempts at conversation.

She had risen to blow out the candles around her room, when the first haunting strains of bagpipe music drifted to her through the wall. Shivering in the darkness she climbed into her bed and hugged her knees to her chest. Although she knew the fingers that played the pipes were completely human, the mournful wail stirred her own ghosts of sadness and regret. For a wistful moment the raw beauty of the music, allowed her to forget the Dragon and remember instead a tall, slender boy with unruly dark hair the fell across his brow and drew attention to his bright emerald eyes. This castle had been his home, and if someone hadn't betrayed his father to Voldemort, he might still reign here as Lord. She gazed up at the shadowy nymphs on the ceiling, wondering if he had ever slept in this chamber.

Had he lived she may have had to watch from the shadows while he took another woman for his wife. She might have had to smile through her tears as his dark haired green eyed son rode his pony past the tree that had been her haven as a girl. But her pain would have been small price to pay for the pleasure of seeing Harry Potter grow to manhood as the strong wonderful leader and pride of his clan.

Ginny touched her cheek, startled to find it wet with tears. She didn't mourn just for that lost boy, but the girl who had loved him. The girl who had roamed the forest trails and the corridors of this very castle longing for a glimpse of him. Sometimes it seemed that both their lives had ended the moment the first spell-fire had torn through the heart of the castle's keep.

The piping died on a plaintive note. She curled up on her side and drew the sheet to her chin. She couldn't help but wonder what that boy would have thought of the woman she had become.

Ginny was dreaming.

She ran through the maze of the castle corridors, a child again. She could hear the boy but could not see him. He stayed just ahead of her, fleeing down the halls and jumping down the stairwells, landing with the grace of a cat. His laughter floated back to her, bold and teasing, but no matter how she begged him to stop he kept running refusing to believe any harm could come to him.

She darted a frantic glance over her shoulder. She could hear the loud rumble of the many footsteps of the enemy's army advancing up the hill. If she couldn't catch him soon it would be too late. But she was too slow, too fat. Her short plump legs no match for his long limber ones. Before she could round one corner, he was rounding the next. "Harry, Stop! Harry you must stop before you get hurt" she called.

Ginevra, he sang out her name urging her not to give up the game. The noise was getting louder, couldn't he hear it? The ground was shaking under her feet, couldn't he feel it?

As she rushed down the main staircase she caught a glimpse of him sprinting into the great hall, his black cloak rippling behind him like wings. Hope grew in her chest. If she could just grab his cloak she could hold him fast and keep him safe in her arms forever. Her feet struck the flagstones at the foot of the stairs. A deafening roar shook the castle. She fell to her knees clamping her hands over her ears.

When she finally dared to open her eyes and lower her hands, the castle had grown silent, leaving an eerie hush in the wake. She slowly climbed to her feet. The looming archway of the great hall beckoning her forward and she walked slowly inside. Her voice cracked as she called his name.

Her only answer was the whisper of the wind blowing through the gaping hole in the wall. She wanted to believe the stubborn boy was hiding, that he was choking on his own laughter as he prepared to spring at her from his hiding place in the shadows.

But she saw the black bundle lying on the floor in the center of the great hall. She knelt to brush her hand against the fine wool, expecting it to be wet with blood just as it had been in a hundred other dreams. But the wool was dry, her hands unstained. Those hands began to tremble and she reached to pull back the corner of the cloak. Instead of resisting her pull as it usually did, the garment wafted up around her, leaving her gaping in astonishment.

The cloak was empty. The boy was gone.

The Dragon jerked upright in his pallet, sweat covering his muscular torso despite the chill in the air.

They were coming. He could hear them- the clattering of footfalls on the rocky path, the cacophony of voices cursing and shouting orders, the ringing of spell fire. He leapt to his feet and pulled on his discarded shirt

He staggered blindly up the stairs, not bothering to light a candle or lamp. He emerged in the gatehouse, bewildered to find the large room dark and deserted instead of teeming with men preparing for battle. He groped his way to the chapel praying he would find someone there, but his questioning cry came back to him a hollow echo. Even God had abandoned him. As he ran passed a recessed window a dazzling flash of light nearly blinded him. He was too late; they had already breached the wall.

The Dragon came to a halt in the main entranceway of the castle, his chest heaving and his fists clenched. Never again would he cower in the dark listening to his family die. Never again would he trust his fate to a deliverance that would never come. He wrenched open the door and stumbled into the night.

He strode to the center of the courtyard and flung his arms wide inviting the bastards to blow his bones to splinters. Squeezing his eyes shut he threw back his head and let out a roar that came straight from the depths of his soul. But even that anguished howl was no match for the booming crash that shook the earth beneath his feet.

The crash faded to a rumble. The Dragon opened his eyes, surprised to find himself still standing. Rain poured over him plastering his shirt to his body and washing his hair into his eyes. It also washed away the last traces of the madness that had seized him.

"Oh God" He whispered as he slid to his knees.

Had he known there was a storm coming he wouldn't have allowed himself to sleep. Had Neville been there he would have distracted him with a game of cards or chess. They would have drank and swapped anecdotes. Anything to take the edge off this torturous wildness that threatened his soul.

The Dragon buried his head in his hands. He could stand on the deck of a ship and withstand without flinching the noise of cannons fired on his orders, but here in this accursed place, even the harmless bluster of thunder could drive him to the brink of insanity.

He lifted his face up to the cool rain. The last storm had brought him Ginevra, he remembered. She was a more welcome distraction than Neville could ever be. He was shaken to realize how he longed to go to her at that moment.

He rose, his bones aching. Fighting the lash of wind and rain he headed toward the castle, determined to seek the only source of comfort he had available.

He quickly climbed the tower stairs and eased her panel open. He quietly entered her chamber as a flash of lightening lit up the entire room. He walked silently toward where she lay in his bed. He stood next to the bed watching her sleep. He was struck again with how impossibly beautiful she was. So soft and strong at the same time, with hair like fire and skin as white as snow.

How he longed to join her in that bed. He contented himself with just looking at her. She was sleeping fitfully and he could tell she was dreaming. She was gasping and murmuring in her sleep.

He wanted to reach out and sooth her but feared waking her before he was concealed in the shadow of his usual corner. He moved to take his normal seat and await her awakening, as he knew once she senses his presence she would wake as before. He had just relaxed into the comfortable chair when her murmuring became clear words. His blood froze in his veins when he heard her speak.

"Harry Stop! Harry you must stop before you get hurt!"

He could not believe what he heard at first. 'She knows" was the only clear thought in his mind as he staggered to his feet. He felt his heart beat pounding frantically in his chest.

She gasped loudly once more and then she said in a broken voice the one word that broke his heart

"Harry" She whispered.

He blindly ran from the room, slamming the panel haphazardly behind him as he rushed away in a panic.

Ginny jerked awake.

At first she mistook the pounding of her heart for the ghostly echoes of her dream but then there was a flash of lightening followed by a crash of thunder. Gusts of wind pummeled the tower, howling in frustration when it refused to crumble to before it's power.

She hugged herself to still her trembling. She wished the Dragon was there to wash away the bitter taste of her nightmare with the sweetness of his kiss. The dazzling flare of lightening proved she was alone.

Finally the wind began to die down. She coked her head as a curious banging reached her ears. It was too rhythmic to be thunder. She gave a small shriek when Toby jumped on the bed beside her. She stared at him as he stared boldly back.

"Where did you come from big fellow?" she asked him. The cat's only reply was a rumbling purr. Ginny climbed out of bed and began to feel her way around the wall. Between each flash of lightening the room was dark as pitch. She fumbled for the panel door, but her hand met only air. The banging she had heard was the panel thudding against the opposite wall, still caught in the strong drafts of breeze that had wrenched it open.

The door was open. Ginny was free.

**A/N—Surprise! Two updates this weekend! Do not get used to it, as this has been an incredibly slow weekend and my weekdays do not leave much time for writing.**

**As always thanks for the reviews, they inspire me to keep going. One thing I would like to address is the complaints that the chapters are too short. This is easily explained. While I love writing and making up stories, I HATE TYPING! So I'm sorry to tell you that there will be no 5000 word chapters from me. If I go over 2000 I feel like I worked hard enough. Short ,sweet and to the point is my style. Hope you enjoy the story anyway.**

**Reminder of my earlier disclaimer- I am not JKR or any other author whose ideas I have borrowed and I make no money from this story. Anything you recognize is not mine, just playing with it! See you next weekend. Have a Great week!**


	15. Chapter 15

The Dragons Bride-Chapter 15

Ginevra backed away from the door, wondering if she was still dreaming. If she dared to pass through that portal, would she hear the ghostly tap of a boy's footsteps on the stairs? Would the mocking music of his laughter beguile her into giving chase?

She pinched the tender flesh on the inside of her arm—hard. Reassured by the sting, she took a deep breath and ducked through the opening. She hadn't fully realized what pains had been taken to make her tower warm and cozy until she encountered the chill, dank air outside her room. She groped her way down the narrow, winding staircase, ducking beneath a stream of rain that poured right through a crack in the ceiling. A broken block of stone snagged her nightdress. She jerked the hem free, then stumbled down three steps, the clumsy motion bringing her face-to-face with… Nothing.

A ragged wound had been torn in the north wall, exposing a dizzying vista of storm-tossed whitecaps. Fading flickers of lightning danced in the moonless sky, illuminating the craggy face of the cliffs and the sheer drop to the rocks below. Ginny scrambled backward, pressing herself flat against the opposite wall. Were these the terrors the Dragon had braved to come to her side in the dark of night? At first she feared she wasn't going to be able to pry herself off the wall. But by steadying her breathing and squeezing her eyes shut, she managed to inch her way past the yawning gap and creep to the gallery below. At the far end of the gallery was a flight of broad, stone stairs. She started down the stairs, still not convinced that she wasn't dreaming. In this dream, her footsteps were not slow or plodding. Instead, she seemed to float down the stairs, the ruffled hem of her nightdress drifting behind her. As she reached the entranceway, a cool, rain-scented breeze played across her skin. The splintered door that led to the courtyard hung half off its hinges in an invitation Ginny could not ignore. She hastened toward the door, trying to imagine the joy that would light her papa's face when she threw herself into his arms.

She hesitated, unable to bring his dear, familiar features into focus. A troubling thought plagued her. What if he hadn't even missed her? When the Dragon had first made her his prisoner, she had believed her father's madness to be a blessing. But now she wasn't so sure. What if Papa simply squeezed her hand, called her his "good girl," and shooed her off to bed? Then there would be nothing left for her to do but crawl beneath the covers with one of her books. Her adventure would be over.

Ginny slowly turned. The yawning archway of the great hall seemed to beckon her forward, just as it had in her dream. She took one step, then another, her pulse racing with a strange mixture of fascination and dread. The great hall had once been the heart of the Castle, and it was that heart that had been broken by Voldemort's attack.

A violent explosion of spells had shattered a portion of the roof, freeing the clouds to sail across its ragged canvas. The rain had nearly stopped, and the moon had begun to peep shyly through the veil of clouds, as if to make sure the storm was truly gone and it was safe to come out. Tattered banners fluttered from the massive crossbeams that hadn't been splintered by the blow, the scarlet dragons that danced on their fields of black faded to the hue of dried blood. A massive stone hearth crowned the far wall, its hand-carved mantel draped with cobwebs.

Ginny drifted into the hall, feeling barely more substantial than the ghosts who must surely haunt this place. She could almost hear the echoes of their laughter, their voices raised in song as they lifted their goblets in a victory toast to the might and majesty that had once been The Potters.

She shook off the fancy. It wasn't the ghosts of those long-dead warriors who haunted her, but the ghost of the woman who had once striven to make this drafty hall a home. Ginny remembered Lily Potter as a good-natured soul who laughed a great deal and adored her only son. Her sweetly feminine touch was everywhere. A settee framed by ornate gilt scrollwork sat below a shattered looking-glass, cotton batting spilling out of its frayed silk cushions. Instead of gloomy tapestries, the walls had been covered with French linen in pastels of pink and blue. A fluted Corinthian column lay toppled on its side in a puddle of rainwater. As Ginny walked through the hall, she had to pick her way through a field of broken pottery. She bent to pick up a shard of fine porcelain, smoothing her thumb over its surface. She had spent her life yearning for such beautiful things, and she could not help but mourn their destruction and the broken fragments of the dreams they represented. She was turning it over in her hand when her foot came up against a disembodied head. She nearly screamed before realizing it was the marble head of the statue in the courtyard—Aphrodite, her shapely lips curved in a knowing smile that both pitied and mocked.

That was when she saw him

He sat, as always, in shadow. But on this night, it seemed that even the shadows weren't enough to hide him. He slumped in the center chair of a long mahogany table, his head buried in his folded arms. A crystal decanter with less than an inch of whisky remaining in its bottom rested before him, along with a silver tinderbox and a candle he hadn't bothered to light. He wore no coat or waistcoat, just a white shirt with its sleeves shoved carelessly past his elbows. From the way the fine linen clung to his powerful shoulders, outlining every sinew and muscle, he must be soaked to the bone. He was oblivious to her presence. All she had to do was tiptoe away and she would be free of him forever. But before she could turn and do just that, thunder boomed in the distance, sending a shudder through his rigid muscles. Before she even realized what she was going to do, she had crossed to his side and gently laid her hand on his shoulder. He lifted his head without looking at her, shedding droplets of rainwater.

"Good evening, Miss Weasley."

"How did you know it wasn't Neville? "

"He knows better than to sneak up on me in the dark. He might inadvertently get his throat cut." Ginny swallowed.

"But then again, his throat isn't nearly as bonny as yours." The whisky hadn't yet slurred his speech, but it had softened the clipped consonants and flat vowels, giving his words a disarming lilt. Before she could withdraw her hand from his shoulder, he caught it and held it fast, his thumb gliding across her palm. "Nor are his hands so soft. Perhaps you're only a dream," he murmured, rubbing the back of her hand against his cheek. "Pray tell, would the prickly Miss Weasley have enough pity in her heart to come to me in my dreams with her soft hands and her skin smelling of sleep?"

The delicious warmth emanating from his touch only made Ginny feel pricklier. "I don't believe that men in drunken stupors are capable of dreaming."

The Dragon laughed harshly. "Perhaps you're not a dream then, but a ghost. The white lady of the castle sent to warn me to leave this place before it costs me my eternal soul." He turned his head to look at her, his expression masked by shadows. "Ah, but the ever-practical Miss Weasley probably doesn't believe in ghosts, does she?"

Unnerved that he should have echoed her own dream so precisely, Ginny said softly, "I used to think I didn't. But when I stand in a place like this, I'm not so sure."

She felt oddly sad when he relinquished her hand and rose, seeking the deeper shadows of the hearth. The damp chill of the hall seemed to seep into her bones. He looked up at the splintered rafters.

"Have you ever wondered how they must have felt that night? Betrayed by one of their own. Abandoned by those they trusted to defend them. All they could do was huddle in the darkness with their own meager weapons and wait for that first band of Death eaters to break through the defenses."

"They could have fled into the night with that coward Dumbledore," she reminded him, wondering as she often had why they hadn't done just that.

His chuckle held little humor. "That might have saved their lives, but it would have cost them their precious pride." He traced the mantel with his forefinger. "Were there children, do you suppose?" he asked lightly, swiping his finger through the thick layer of dust on the mantel.

Now Ginny was the one who turned away, seeking to hide from the moonlight. "There was a child. A boy."

"Only the one. That's unusual, is it not? I thought these Highland lords bred like rabbits."

She shook her head. "His wife was able to bear him only the one child. But unlike most men, he never reproached her. Instead, he treated her as if she'd given him the rarest and most precious of gifts—a son. An heir who would lead the clan once he was gone." Her voice trailed to a murmur. "I don't believe the villagers ever recovered from his loss."

The Dragon snorted. "From what you've told me about the good folk of Hogsmeade, I doubt that anyone shed a tear for him."

Ginny swung around to face him. "I did!" Unable to bear his silence, she drifted over to the jagged remains of a window. "I was little more than a child when he died, but I suppose I was half in love with him even then." A rueful smile touched her lips. "Silly wasn't I, thinking a lad like that might spare a thought for a great, awkward girl like me?"

"Your only folly was fancying yourself in love with someone who was little more than a child himself."

"Ah, but you didn't know him. He was quite an extraordinary lad—strong and kind and noble. It was apparent even then what manner of man he would grow up to be."

The Dragon sounded oddly subdued. "A true paragon of goodness, no doubt. A boy given to uplifting the downtrodden, protecting the virtue of the innocent, and rescuing damsels in distress."

"He rescued me once. But I was proud and stubborn and instead of thanking him properly, I gave him a scathing set-down. I didn't realize it would be the last time I would ever see him alive." She gazed out over the shattered ruins of the courtyard, but saw instead a sunlit path lined with weeping villagers, felt the rough bark as she dug her fingernails into the trunk of the oak, heard the mournful wail of the pipes as they heralded the death of all her dreams. "I saw them carry his body down the hill. I must have hidden in that very same tree and watched him run through that pass a hundred times before, but that last time, he was draped facedown over the back of a pony. They'd wrapped him in the cloak he'd always worn so proudly."

Ginny was aware that tears had begun to slip silently down her cheeks, just as they had done that day. Unaware that the Dragon had taken two halting steps toward her, his fingers curled into helpless fists at his sides. She brushed a tear away with the back of her hand and turned to face him.

He stumbled around and braced both hands on the mantel. "I suggest that you leave me now, Miss Weasley. I'm lonely and I'm drunk. I've only been drunk for a few hours, but I've been lonely for a very long time, which hardly makes me fit company for discussing ghosts with a lady in her nightdress."

Ginny was taken completely off guard by his admission. She supposed she'd assumed that loneliness was reserved for plain women. "And where would you suggest I go, M'lord Dragon? Back to my cell?"

"I don't give a damn where you go," he ground out. "As long as it's out of my sight."

Ginny couldn't have gone if her life had depended on it, not while there was a crack in the Dragon's armor that might provide her with a glimpse of the man inside. "Shall I return to the village then?" She took another step toward him, thinking to lure him into the moonlight with her taunts. "Shall I tell them that their fierce Dragon is nothing but a man? A man, who seeks to make others afraid of him, yet hides his face in shadows because he's more afraid of himself than they could ever be."

"Tell them whatever you bloody well like," he growled his knuckles white against the mahogany of the mantel.

Ginny crept nearer, lifting her hand, but not daring to touch the unyielding expanse of his back. "Shall I also tell them that you've shown me nothing but kindness? That you replaced my rags with garments fit for a princess? That you forced me to eat when I would have starved myself out of sheer stubbornness? That you've declined to devour their virgin sacrifice?"

He turned around. "Don't think I haven't considered it. Don't think I'm not considering it at this very moment!" Hunger gleamed in his eyes, but he did not lay his hands on her. It was that, more than anything that prompted her to touch her fingertips to his face. He inhaled raggedly as she gently explored his features, seeking the scar, the burn, the terrible deformity that had driven him to live in darkness and branded him a beast in his own eyes and the eyes of the world. She had to ease aside a silky lock of hair to stroke a brow that was both strong and smooth. His eyebrows were thick and slightly arched his lashes soft as feathers against her palm. She followed the arc of his cheekbone to the firm line of his nose. Her knuckles curved to caress a jaw lightly stubbled with a day's growth of beard. She was reaching to brush her fingertips against his lips when he caught her wrist, groaning.

She expected him to fling her hand away, not to bring her fingertips to his lips and press a kiss upon them. His lips were firm, yet soft. The tender urgency of their kiss sent a scorching sweetness melting through her veins. He caught her by the shoulders and drew her against him in the darkness.

"Would you sacrifice yourself to me, Ginevra? Would you sacrifice yourself to save this poor wretched beast that I've become?"

A strange calm stole over Ginny as she gazed up into the shadows that composed his face. "You once told me what I had to do to turn you from beast to man." Curling one hand around his nape, she drew him down and gently pressed her mouth to his.

**A/N- Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. I am so glad you are enjoying this story. **

**Reminder- I do not own these characters and I make no money from this story. I am just borrowing them.**

**So sorry this chapter is late. I have been without internet for a bit.**


	16. Chapter 16

The Dragons Bride – Chapter 16

THE DRAGON struggled to absorb the gift of Ginny's kiss. It was too late to confess that he had lied to her, too late to warn her that her kiss could only weave an enchantment more dangerous than any that had come before. Instead of taming him, her kiss made him wild. Wild to kiss her, Wild to touch her. Wild to take her. He sucked in a shuddering breath as her mouth ripened beneath his, her lips parting in an invitation he no longer had the strength to resist. Holding himself back so as not to frighten her, he wrapped his arms around her and swirled his tongue through the moist warmth of her mouth. She tasted of innocence and hunger, and it was precisely that shy ardor that made her kiss more affecting than any courtesan's caress.

"My sweet… my innocent," he whispered against the corner of her mouth. "You are a dream, aren't you? A dream come true."

Ginny would have never believed the Dragon capable of such gentleness. His mouth glided down the curve of her jaw, leaving a tingling trail of delight. He kissed the dimple in her cheek, and then sought the one at the hollow of her throat before returning his mouth to hers. This was no chaste brushing of lips, no misty mingling of breath. This was a kiss as sweet and dark as death itself. As he ravished her mouth with exquisite thoroughness, she had to cling to his shirtfront to keep from falling. He might have been the one drinking, but she was the one reeling, intoxicated more by his raw tenderness than by the whisky she tasted on his tongue. Although his breathing was as ragged as her own, she could feel his dragon's heart beating strong and true beneath her palm. He did not break that bewitching kiss, not even when he bore her back against the table. Ginny had thought to lure him into the moonlight. She had never dreamed that he would drag her deeper into the shadows or that she would go with him willingly, even eagerly. The table pressed into her backside; he pressed himself into the softness of her belly, proving once and for all that he was no beast, but simply a man. A man who desperately wanted her.

"You're a bloody little fool. You should have gone when I told you to," he rasped even as he drew her more tightly against him. Ginny reached blindly for his face, finding his hoarse reproach even more irresistible than his touch. He grazed her lips with his own, brushing them back and forth in a coaxing caress that made her heart double its already ragged rhythm. He began to unlace the satin ribbons at the throat of her nightdress. She felt the tremor in his hands as he dragged the fabric down, exposing her shoulders. "You have the softest skin," he murmured, feathering his fingers against her collarbone.

"Fat girls often do," she informed him, pressing her burning cheek to his chest. "It's their consolation for having so very much of it."

He cupped her face in his hands, his voice as fierce as his touch. "If you're not a goddess among women, then why is Aphrodite over there turning green with jealousy at the prospect of your unveiling?"

Ginny laughed shakily. "Are you sure it's not just moss?"

As the Dragon buried his face against her throat to smother his exasperated chuckle, it was almost possible for him to believe that her yielding softness could fill all the empty places in his life. "If you won't believe the praise that spills from my honeyed tongue, I'll simply have to put it to another use."

Ginny moaned deep in her throat as he did just that, sliding that honeyed tongue of his between her lips in a rhythm as ancient as that of the sea battering the rocks below the castle. A wicked thrill shot through her as he filled his hands with the softness of her breasts, his callused thumbs stroking her nipples to rigid attention through the crisp lawn of the nightdress. She gasped into his mouth; he groaned into hers. His dragon's breath seemed to fill her, its tongues of flame igniting a raging fire low in her belly. Through the roaring in her ears, she could hear him murmuring her name, as if it were an incantation. She could do nothing but moan her surrender as his other hand crept beneath the skirt of her nightdress, lingering to stroke the baby-soft skin of her inner knee. It wasn't until she heard his ragged intake of breath that she remembered the slit in the silk at the cleft of her thighs. As those deft, aristocratic fingers of his brushed curls dampened by a desire she could no longer deny, her thighs went slack, inviting him—no— begging him to work his dark will upon her.

So this was it, Ginny thought, her head falling back to loll helplessly against her shoulders. This was the rapture for which women had traded their innocence and their pride. He lavished her mouth with kisses, all the while petting and stroking her until she was slick with nectar thicker and sweeter than honey. Only then did he flick his thumb across the swollen bud at the crux of her curls. Only then did he press one finger deep into the aching hollow that had never before known the touch of a man.

Ginny arched against his hand, pleasure spilling through her in a shimmering cascade that seemed to have no end. She almost cried out his name before remembering with a pang of dismay that she did not know what it was. He was a stranger!

A stranger was looming over her in the darkness with his face masked by shadows and his hand up her skirt. Feeling suddenly sick with shame, Ginny shoved at his chest.

"No," she cried, breaking away from his embrace.

He followed her, stopping at the very brink of the shadows. "What is it? Did you think I would force you? For God's sake, Ginevra, even I'm not that much of a monster!"

Ginny clutched the arm of the settee, fighting to steady her breathing. She didn't want to cry in front of him; she wasn't a pretty crier. "You don't understand. It's not you. It's me!" She hung her head. "I should have warned you. The women in my village all seem to possess a terrible weakness of the flesh."

A relieved laugh escaped him. "Oh, is that all? I can assure you, sweeting, that what you just experienced was utterly normal. There was nothing terrible about it. Not for you and most certainly not for me."

Ginny whirled around to face him. "Do you know what the men in the village say about the girls? 'Take care when you toss up the skirts of those girls —you may find another lad already under there.' They wink and they nudge each other and whisper, 'Do you know what's better than a Hogsmeade girl on her back? Why, one on her knees!' "

The Dragon watched her from the shadows, his stillness uncanny.

"Nyssa has given herself away until there's nothing left of who she might have been. And now her youngest sister Kitty has started down the same path. But how can I condemn her when I've proved I'm no different from either of them! I'm just as willing to offer myself to any silver-tongued rogue who plies me with kisses or praises the softness of my skin."

He was silent for a long time—long enough for Ginny to begin to wonder if she'd wounded him with her words.

"And just how many other silver-tongued rogues have you offered yourself to?"

Ginny pondered the question for a moment, sniffing back a sob. "None. Only you."

"Why, you're quite the little strumpet, aren't you? "He said lightly.

"You can't deny that I let you commit unspeakable liberties!"

"Oh, I wouldn't call them unspeakable," he replied anger restoring the clipped edge to his voice. "First you let me kiss your mouth. Then you let me touch those exquisite breasts of yours through your nightdress. And then you let me put my fingers—"

"Stop it!" Ginny clapped her hands over her ears, unable to bear his deliberate mockery. "How could I have let you do any of those things when I've never even seen your face? When I don't even know your name?"

"That may be true," he said quietly, "but for just a moment there, I would have sworn you knew my heart."

Ginny's chest shuddered with the effort of choking back her tears. She wanted nothing more than to run into his arms, but she was as trapped by the moonlight as he was by the shadows. As long as he refused to reveal his identity, the expanse of floor that separated them would remain as uncross able as the chasm of nothingness separating the tower from the sea.

Fearful that she might try anyway, she spun around and ran from the hall. Fingers of moonlight streamed through the open door, beckoning her toward freedom. Ginny ran up the stairs, leaving the Dragon to his shadows. She did not see him burst from the great hall, braving the light to come after her. Nor did she see him slump against the wall and rake his hands through his hair when he heard the sobs echoing down from the highest reaches of the castle.


	17. Chapter 17

The Dragons Bride- Chapter 17

The Dragon sat with his back braced against the stone at the pinnacle of the Castle. He couldn't remember the last time he'd watched the rising sun tip the waves with gold or felt a southerly breeze play across his brow. He turned his face to the sun, bathing in its grace. Last night's storm had washed the world clean, leaving it smelling as fresh and pure as a newborn babe.

He only wished his own sins could be washed away so easily. Even with his eyes closed, he could still see Ginevra standing in the moonlight, her hair a tousled halo of gold and her cheeks flushed rose from the pleasure he had given her. It was as if one of the demigoddesses painted on the ceiling of the tower had tumbled to earth. But such gifts were not meant for the hands of mortal man. Especially a man like him. Remembering the wounded shame in Ginny's eyes as she'd fled his arms, he lifted his hands to gaze at them. Even when they sought to give pleasure, they brought only pain.

A muffled footfall, followed by an awkward cough, warned him he was no longer alone. "When I went to check on Ginevra just now," Neville said softly, "the panel was ajar. At first I thought…"

"… That you'd find her in my bed," the Dragon finished, shooting his friend a wry look. "I hate to tarnish my reputation, but my powers of seduction aren't quite what they used to be."

"If that's true, then why didn't she run away?"

"Why don't you ask her?"

"I didn't wish to wake her. From the tearstains on her cheeks I deduced that she'd cried herself to sleep."

The Dragon's anger flared. "What's wrong Nev? Bored with tormenting the villagers? Aren't they providing enough sport for you?"

"Actually," He said, propping one booted foot on the stone wall, "I'm finding their antics quite entertaining. One Old Granny took to her bed because she believed my piping was the wail of a banshee coming to claim her soul. One of the blacksmith's sons got into fisticuffs with one of the tinker's sons because they were both convinced the other's father was the one who betrayed the Potters. And Sloan nearly shot his wife when he awoke from a drunken stupor and mistook her for the Dragon." Neville rolled his eyes. "Or so he claims."

"You're getting rather cozy with the good folk of Hogsmead, aren't you? "The Dragon remarked, studying his friend's face.

Neville flushed. "How else am I to ferret out the thousand pounds?"

The Dragon turned back to the sea. There had been a moment last night when all of his grim plans had seemed to recede into the shadows before the tender sweetness of Ginny's kiss. But that moment had been as elusive as the pleasure they'd shared. He had no future to offer her, only a past. His eyes followed the path of a gull as it went wheeling down the rocky coast.

"The ship is anchored in an inlet right beyond those cliffs, you know. The men are just waiting for my signal to come take us away from this place."

"Ah, but there's no r-rush, is there?" Neville stammered. "After all, the villagers are just beginning to show signs of cracking. We mustn't be too hasty. Perhaps if we gave them another fortnight…?"

The Dragon surged to his feet. "I don't have another fortnight to give them! I'm not even sure I have another night."

He paced the length of the parapet, raking his windswept hair from his brow. How could he explain to Neville that the darkness that had sheltered him for so long was now his enemy? That he could no longer roam its shadows without fear? Fear that as soon as the gloom of dusk began to descend, he would betray his own will and make that long climb to the tower. Fear that he would no longer be content to lurk in the dark and watch Ginny sleep, but would slip over to that bed and cover that delectable mouth and body of hers with his own. He had not lied. He would never force her. But he could use all the sensual skills at his disposal to seduce her, which would make him even more of a monster than he already was.

He faced Neville. "I'll give you one more night to scare some truth out of the villagers. If you have no luck, then we'll admit this has all been nothing but a miserable folly and we'll leave this accursed place in the morning and never speak of it again. Agreed?"

Neville's shoulders slumped. "Agreed." He was almost to the stairs when he turned and said softly, "You could tell her who you are, you know."

The Dragon spared his friend a pained smile. "If I knew, I just might do that."

_You could tell her who you are, you know._

As Neville traversed the moonlit meadow, his own words mocked him. He stumbled over a root, feeling every inch the bumbling oaf his Grandmother had always accused him of being.

Stop slumping. Stand up straight. You're not half the man your father was at your age.

Perhaps she had been right about him all along. After all, what sort of man would borrow another man's identity to impress a dewy-eyed young girl? He sighed, finding it only too easy to imagine the awe in Kitty's luminous eyes hardening to contempt when she discovered the truth—that he was nothing but a dull-witted sheep masquerading as a dashing wolf. When cloaked in the shimmering scales of the Dragon, he could be eloquent and witty. He could whisk a bouquet of wildflowers out from behind his back and coax a blush into Kitty's creamy cheeks. He could lie next to her on a bed of sweet grass and point out the constellations strewn like diamonds across the night sky, putting the classical education he'd obtained at Eton to good use for the first time in his life.

He could be the mysterious stranger he saw reflected in her eyes instead of a plain Englishman with thinning hair who blathered too much and blushed too easily. As he leapt over a running stream, his boot sank into the chill water, soaking it to the knee. Both of those men might very well be departing in the morning, he thought glumly, and for that, he had no one to blame but himself.

He had fooled himself into believing he could learn more about the villagers by wooing Kitty than by setting off smoke pots or letting out a savage roar whenever one of them strayed too far from his cottage in the dark of night. If he was never going to see Kitty again after tonight, then why should he reveal his true identity? Why crush her romantic dreams? Why not leave her with her memories of the stolen moments they'd shared? At least then he could remain a hero in someone's heart.

Until Ginny returned to the village after their ship sailed and told her what a fool he'd made of her. Neville stumbled to a halt and closed his eyes, knowing what he must do.

When he opened them, she was there, as ethereal as the wisps of mist rising from the dew-soaked grass. "Kitty," he said. "I'm so glad you came. There's something I must tell you."

She moved toward him, her shapely hips swaying. "I'm weary of you telling me things," she said thickly. "It's all you've done for the past week. Told me how pretty I am. Told me how my eyes sparkle like dew-drops on the heather. Told me how my lips were as ripe and pink as rose petals." Neville stood paralyzed with anticipation as she cupped his cheeks in her hands and drew him down until those lips were only a breath away from his own. "Your friend was right. You do blather too much." Neville groaned as that succulent flower of a mouth budded beneath his, drawing him into a kiss as hot and irresistibly carnal as the weight of her small, firm breasts pressed against his chest.

As every last droplet of blood in his body surged from his brain to his groin, he nearly let her drag him down to the sweet-smelling hummock of grass behind her. Nearly let himself accept the invitation she was so clearly offering. It took more strength of will than he'd known he possessed to gently reach around and unfasten Kitty's slender arms from his neck. Struggling to catch his breath, he set her away from him. She would surely know he was a fraud now.

The real Dragon would have never let himself get so flustered by a mere kiss. A shock of dismay ran through him when he saw the tears glistening on her cheeks. "Nyssa was right, wasn't she?" she cried. "You can resist my charms!"

Neville reached for her, but she was backing away from him as if he had struck her. He stopped, fearful she would bolt altogether. "Is that what you believe?" he asked, letting out a bark of disbelief. "That I haven't kissed you because I haven't wanted to?"

Kitty slowed her retreat, but skepticism still shimmered in her eyes. "Glynna says you have an appetite only for virgins. That you'll never want a girl like me because I'm not—" She bit her bottom lip and shifted her gaze to the ground.

"Glynna is right. That's exactly why I don't want to kiss you." Before her face could crumple, Neville dared to draw nearer. "I don't want to kiss you because you deserve more than fumbling caresses and kisses stolen in the moonlight." He brushed a trembling teardrop from her cheek with his fingertips. "In truth, I would never do you such a grave dishonor unless I intended to make you my wife."

Neville was nearly as surprised by his words as she was. He had never allowed himself to imagine returning to London with a little bit of Highland heaven to treasure for the rest of his life. He had never let himself dream that Kitty's lilting laughter or her graceful footsteps on the stairs might make his lonely town house a home. A strange excitement buzzed along his nerves. Kitty was gazing up at him as if he'd dragged the luminous pearl of a moon down from the sky and slipped it onto her finger. He threw back his shoulders and sucked in his stomach, unable to hold back a grin. "I suppose I'm trying to warn you, Kitty Watson, that if you compromise my virtue with a kiss, you'll simply have to make an honest man of me."

Neville had expected to see his own joy reflected on her face. But as she reached up to cup his cheek in her palm, a wistful sadness made her look older than her years. "You're already an honest man," she said. "A good man. A kind man. A decent man. This is why I'm not worthy to be your wife."

Before he could fully absorb her words, she turned to go. The real Dragon might have been quick enough to catch her, but he was only Neville Longbottom. He made a clumsy grab for her, but she had already melted into the mist.

Kitty ran through the forest, away from the sound of the Dragon calling her name. It had hurt to believe that he would not want her because she wasn't a virgin, but it was even more painful to learn that he wanted her anyway. She dashed away her tears as she ran, dodging the slapping branches of alder and oak.

Ginny had tried to warn her, but she had refused to listen. After all, what did Ginny know? She spent her days tending to the tiresome demands of her father, while Nyssa spent her nights accepting the flattery, the trinkets, and the rapt attentions of her many admirers. What did it matter that those attentions seemed to wane as soon as they got what they wanted from her? There was always another lad just as eager for a saucy kiss or a quick cuddle behind the blacksmith's barn.

So Kitty had spent her innocence in a hasty, clumsy encounter that had been more painful than pleasurable, leaving her with nothing to bring to the bed of the man who wanted to make her his wife. The man she loved. A hoarse sob escaped her. She did love him—his plain face, his kind heart, his earnest brown eyes. And that was exactly why she couldn't marry him. She stumbled to a halt, clinging to the weathered trunk of a birch.

The Dragon's voice had faded, leaving her surrounded by the eerie creaks and croaks of the forest. A cool breeze chittered through the thin web of branches overhead. Kitty shivered. She'd been too blinded by tears to pay any heed to where she was running and now everything that should have been familiar to her seemed spooky and foreign. A branch cracked in the darkness behind her. She spun around, her heart leaping into her throat. "Who goes there?"

The night whispered its secrets in a voice too low for her to hear, mocking her trepidation. She began to back toward the way she had come, hoping to retrace her path before the moon began its downward descent. Before she could take three steps, a brawny arm snaked around her waist. A hand covered her mouth, stifling her startled yelp. She dug her fingernails into her assailant's hairy knuckles, shuddering at the suffocating heat of his breath in her ear.

"Sheathe your claws, wee kitten, or I'll pull 'em out one by one!"

Only then did Kitty realize that it was Ron's meaty paw clapped over her mouth. Her eyes widened as Glynna, Nyssa, and Percy emerged from the darkness, their faces uncharacteristically somber. Kitty lifted her foot and gave Ron's instep a vicious stomp. As he relaxed his grip, biting off a blistering oath, she scrambled out of his arms and whirled around to glare at him.

"How dare you put your hands on me, you over-grown oaf?"

Ron took a threatening step toward her. "You'll let some beast paw you, but you're too good for the likes of me?"

She expected Glynna and Nyssa to rush to her defense, but her sisters closed ranks around Ron with a reproachful look in their eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Kitty looked from one to the other of them, seeking some sign that this was all a jest.

"We know what you've been doing," Nyssa said.

"And who you've been doing it with," Glynna added gently, the sorrow in her eyes more unsettling than all of Ron's blustering.

"All this time we thought the Dragon was some sort of monster," Percy said. "But thanks to you, we now know he's just a man." A sneer touched his mouth, giving it a sinister cast. "A very mortal man."

Kitty took an instinctive step backward. Her only thought was to flee—not to save herself, but to warn the Dragon. "What are you going to do? "She whispered, hoping to buy them both some time.

In answer to her question, the forest came alive. Dark shapes came melting out of every tree, every bush, and every shadow just as the druids of old must have once. But instead of bearing sacred stones and healing herbs, the villagers of Hogsmead were armed with muskets, ropes, unlit torches, and all the daggers and claymores that had been buried in their backyards and hidden in their cellars since the English had outlawed them. Some of them were still stained with the ancient blood of their enemies. Even old Granny clutched a pitchfork in her withered hand, its jagged tines gleaming sharp and deadly in the moonlight. As Kitty backed right into Percy's bony chest, Ron grabbed her by the elbow. "What does it look like we're going to do? We're going to hunt us a dragon!"


End file.
